Harry, Ron, and I thought that meeting the three-headed dog had been an excellent adventure and we were quite keen to have another one. In the meantime, Harry filled us in about the package that seemed to have been moved from Gringotts to Hogwarts, and I spent a lot of time wondering what could possibly need such heavy protection.
"It's either really valuable or really dangerous," said Ron.
"Or both," I said.
But all we knew for sure about the mysterious object was that it was about two inches long, we didn't have much chance of guessing what it was without further clues.
Hermione, however, showed the slightest interest in what lay underneath the dog and the trapdoor. She was now refusing to speak to Harry and Ron, but she simply can avoid me. All Harry and Ron kept repeating is how they really wanted to get back at Malfoy, and to their great delight, just such a thing arrived in the mail about a week later.
As the owls flooded into the Great Hall, as usual, everyone's attention was caught at once by a long, thin package carried by six large screech owls. I was just as interested as everyone else to see what was in this large parcel, and I was amazed when the owls soared down and dropped it right in front of Harry, knocking his bacon to the floor. They had hardly fluttered out of the way when another owl dropped a letter on top of the parcel.
I looked at him while he read the letter after he finished he passed it to both me and Ron.
DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE.
It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session.
Professor M. McGonagall
"A Nimbus Two Thousand!" Ron moaned enviously. "I've never even touched one."
"Congrats Harry," I said smiling at him.
We left the hall quickly, wanting to unwrap the broomstick in private before our first class, but halfway across the entrance hall, we found the way upstairs barred by Crabbe and Goyle. Draco seized the package from Harry and felt it.
"That's a broomstick," he said, throwing it back to Harry with a mixture of jealousy and spite on his face. "You'll be in for it this time, Potter, first years aren't allowed them."
Ron clearly couldn't resist it.
"It's not any old broomstick," he said, "it's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?" Ron grinned at Harry. "Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus."
"What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle," Malfoy snapped back. "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig."
"Hey, Hey stop please both of you. Draco you don't know what happens in Ron's home so don't talk about his financial problems please, and Ron let's just not brag please," I said before the argument got worse.
Before Ron could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Draco's elbow.
"Not arguing, I hope, boys?" he squeaked.
"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," said Draco quickly.
"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?"
"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir," said Harry, obviously fighting not to laugh at the look of horror on Draco's face. "And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it," he added.
Harry, Ron, and I headed upstairs, the two of them were smothering their laughter at Malfoy's obvious rage and confusion.
"Well, it's true," Harry chortled as we reached the top of the marble staircase, "If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall I wouldn't be on the team...."
"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" came an angry voice from just behind us.FUCK! Hermione was stomping up the stairs, looking disapprovingly at the package in Harry's hand.
"I thought you weren't speaking to us?" said Harry.
"Yes, don't stop now," said Ron, "it's doing us so much good."
Hermione marched away with her nose in the air. Should I follow her? Yea, I probably should. I ran after her. How could she be so fast? She was just walking! I saw her go into the library. I walked towards the table she was sitting.
"Hey, Hermione are you okay?" I asked whispering. "Ron says things without thinking don't mind him."
"I'm great Y/N, I don't care about what Ronald says," she said annoyed.
"Okay, okay... do you want me to leave?" I asked her noticing she was annoyed.
"No need to leave, we have to go to class anyway. Let's go," she said pulling me out of the library.
Harry, Ron, and I bolted dinner that evening without noticing what we were eating, and then rushed upstairs to unwrap the Nimbus Two Thousand.
"Wow," Ron sighed, as the broomstick rolled onto Harry's bedspread.
Even me, knowing nothing about the different brooms, thought it looked wonderful. Sleek and shiny, with a mahogany handle, it had a long tail of neat, straight twigs and Nimbus Two Thousand written in gold near the top.
On Halloween morning I woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. Even better, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought we were ready to start making objects fly, something we had all been dying to try since we'd seen him make Neville's toad zoom around the classroom. Professor Flitwick put the class into pairs to practice. My partner was Lynn (which was a relief). Ron, however, was to be working with Hermione. It was hard to tell whether Ron or Hermione was angrier about this.
"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too – never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."
It was very difficult. I swished and flicked, but the feather I was supposed to be sending skyward just lay on the desktop. Ron, at the next table, wasn't having much more luck.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill.
"You're saying it wrong," I heard Hermione snap. "It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."
"You do it, then, if you're so clever," Ron snarled.
Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand, and said, "Wingardium Leviosa!"
The feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.
"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"
I did it the way she told Ron to do it and managed it. I sent a smile her way.
"It's no wonder no one can stand her," he said to Harry and I as we pushed our way into the crowded corridor, "she's a nightmare, honestly."
"Shut up Ronald, just because she is smarter than you will ever be doesn't give you the right to say that!"
Someone knocked into me and hurried past us. It was Hermione. I caught a glimpse of her face – and was startled to see she was in tears.
"I think she heard you."
"YOU THINK? I am going to check on her," I said running after her. After a lot of running, she walked into the girl's bathroom. I was about to walk in when a group of girls started looking at me. I turned around and left hoping she would be okay.
Hermione didn't turn up for the next class and wasn't seen all afternoon. On our way down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, Harry, Ron, and I overheard Parvati Patil telling her friend Lavender that Hermione was crying in the girls' bathroom. Ron looked still more awkward at this. I just wanted Ron to feel worst so I whispered in his ear "That is all your fault."
The decorations in the Great Hall were really cool. A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over the tables in low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter. The feast appeared suddenly on the golden plates, as it had at the start-of-term banquet.
As I was eating Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, slumped against the table, and gasped, "Troll – in the dungeons – thought you ought to know."
Then he sank to the floor in a dead faint, or maybe a fake faint.
There was an uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence.
"Perfects," he rumbled, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"
Percy was in his element.
"Follow me! Stick together, first years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first years coming through! Excuse me, I'm a perfect!"
"How could a troll get in?" Harry asked as we climbed the stairs.
"Don't ask me, they're supposed to be really stupid," said Ron. "Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke."
I grabbed Harry's and Ron's arms.
"I've just thought – Hermione."
"What about her?"
"She doesn't know about the troll and you're both coming to help me. It's your fault anyway."
Ron bit his lip.
"Oh, all right," he snapped. "But Percy'd better not see us."
Ducking down, we joined the Hufflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted corridor, and hurried off toward the girls' bathroom. We had just turned the corner when we heard quick footsteps behind us.
"Percy!" hissed Ron, pulling Harry and me behind a large stone griffin.
Peering around it, however, we saw not Percy but Snape. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from view.
"What's he doing?" Harry whispered. "Why isn't he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?"
"Search me."
Quietly as possible, we crept along the next corridor after Snape's fading footsteps.
"He's heading for the third floor," Harry said, but I held up his hand.
"Can you smell something?"
Harry and Ron sniffed and a foul stench reached their nostrils, a mixture of old socks and the kind of public toilet no one seems to clean.
And then we 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 us. We 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.
We edged toward the open door, mouths dry, praying the troll wasn't about to come out of it. With one great leap, Harry managed to grab the key, slam the door, and lock it.
"Yes!" Harry said
"No!" I said. "It's the girls' bathroom!"
"Hermione !" We said together.
Wheeling around, we sprinted back to the door and turned the key, fumbling in their panic. Harry pulled the door open and we ran inside.
Hermione Granger was shrinking against the wall opposite, looking as if she was about to faint. The troll was advancing on her, knocking the sinks off the walls as it went.
"Confuse it!" Harry said desperately to Ron, and, seizing a tap, he threw it as hard as he could against the wall.
The troll stopped a few feet from the girls. It lumbered around, blinking stupidly, to see what had made the noise. Its mean little eyes saw Harry. It hesitated, then made for him instead, lifting its club as it went. I seized the opportunity and tried to help Hermione to her feet.
"Oy, pea-brain!" yelled Ron from the other side of the chamber, and he threw a metal pipe at it. The troll didn't even seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly snout toward Ron instead, giving Harry time to run around it.
"She won't get up!" I panted, trying to get Hermione to stand, "mione, I need you to move," I told her. "Come on, run, run!" I yelled at Hermione, trying to pull her toward the door, but she couldn't move, she was still flat against the wall, her mouth open with terror.
The shouting and the echoes seemed to be driving the troll berserk. It roared again and started toward Ron, who was nearest and had no way to escape.
Harry then did something that was both very brave and very stupid: he took a great running jump and managed to fasten his arms around the troll's neck from behind. The troll couldn't feel Harry hanging there, but even a troll will notice if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose, and Harry's wand had still been in his hand when he'd jumped – it had gone straight up one of the troll's nostrils.
Howling with pain, the troll twisted and flailed its club, with Harry clinging on for dear life; any second, the troll was going to rip him off or catch him a terrible blow with the club.
Ron pulled out his wand – I hugged Hermione not knowing what Ron was going to do but he cried the first spell that came into his head: "Wingardium Leviosa!"
The club flew suddenly out of the troll's hand, rose high, high up into the air, turned slowly over – and dropped, with a sickening crack, on its owner's head. The troll swayed on the spot and then fell flat on its face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble.
Harry got to his feet. He was shaking and out of breath. Ron was standing there with his wand still raised, staring at what he had done. And I was hugging Hermione.
It was Hermione who spoke first.
"Is it – dead?"
"I don't think so," said Harry, "I think it's just been knocked out."
He bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll's nose. It was covered in what looked like lumpy gray glue.
"Urgh – troll boogers."
He wiped it on the troll's trousers.
A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the four of us lookup. We hadn't realized what a racket we had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll's roars. A moment later, Professor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart.
Snape bent over the troll. Professor McGonagall was looking at Ron, Harry, and me. I had never seen her look so angry. Her lips were white. Hopes of winning fifty points for Gryffindor faded quickly from my mind.
"What on earth were you thinking of?" said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. Harry looked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air. I was as dumbfounded as he was. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"
Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look. Harry looked at the floor. He wished Ron would put his wand down.
Then a small voice came out of the shadows.
"Please, Professor McGonagall – they were looking for me."
"Miss Granger!"
Hermione had managed to get to her feet at last.
"I went looking for the troll because I – I thought I could deal with it on my own – you know because I've read all about them."
I was shocked. Hermione Granger, telling a downright lie to a teacher?
"If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose, Y/N helped making sure I was okay, and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived."
Harry and I tried to look as though this story wasn't new to them. We saw Ron's look of amazement fade and knew he was trying the same.
"Well – in that case..." said Professor McGonagall, staring at the four of us, "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?"
Hermione hung her head. I was speechless. Hermione was the last person to do anything against the rules, and here she was, pretending she had, to get us out of trouble.
"Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," said Professor McGonagall. "I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses."
Hermione left.
Professor McGonagall turned to Harry, Ron, and me.
"Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a fully-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go."
We hurried out of the chamber and didn't speak at all until we had climbed two floors up. It was a relief to be away from the smell of the troll, quite apart from anything else.
"We should have gotten more than fifteen points," Ron grumbled.
"Ten, you mean, once she's taken off Hermione's."
"Good of her to get us out of trouble like that," Ron admitted. "Mind you, we did save her."
"She might not have needed saving if we hadn't locked the thing in with them," Harry reminded him.
"And if you hadn't said all those hateful things," I added
We had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.
"Pig snout," we said and entered.
The common room was packed and noisy. Everyone was eating the food that had been sent up. Hermione, however, stood by the door, waiting for us. There was a very embarrassed pause among Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Then, none of them looking at each other, they all said "Thanks," and hurried off to get plates while I just stood there.
But from that moment on, Hermione Granger became Harry's and Ron's friend. There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them. While I was already their friend.
ANOTHER CHAPTER COMING TODAY!