┍━━━☽【❖】☾━━━┑
.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑*̑˚̑𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚛❶↝𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛⑨˚̑*̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚃𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕
┕━━━☽【❖】☾━━━┙
•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧. •̩̩͙*˚⁺‧.˚ *•̩̩͙ ✩. •̩̩͙*˚⁺‧. •̩̩͙*˚⁺‧. ˚ *•̩̩͙ ✩
✮*•̩̩͙✧•̩̩͙*˚✧*˚✮*•̩̩͙✧•̩̩͙*˚✧*˚˚*✧˚*•̩̩͙✧•̩̩͙*˚✮
.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑**̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑**̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑**̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑**̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇
●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘
╔ ------------------------------------ ╗
❝𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚠𝚎'𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎❞
╚ ------------------------------------ ╝
Malfoy couldn't believe his eyes when he saw that Harry, I, Hermione, and Ron were still at Hogwarts the next day, looking tired but perfectly cheerful.
He looked overjoyed, and cheerful as if now no one could ruin his day.
Indeed, by the next morning Harry, I, Hermione, and Ron thought that meeting the three-headed dog had been an excellent adventure, and we were quite keen to have another one.
In the meantime, I filled Ron, Harry, and Hermione in about the package that seemed to have been moved from Gringotts to Hogwarts, and we spent a lot of time wondering what could possibly need such heavy protection.
"It's either really valuable or really dangerous," said Hermione.
"Or both," said Ron.
But as 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.
All we really wanted now was a way of getting back at Malfoy, and to our 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 was amazed when the owls soared down and dropped it right in front of me, knocking my waffles to the floor.
We had hardly fluttered out of the way when another owl dropped a letter on top of the parcel. I ripped open the letter first, which was lucky, because it said:
'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 McGonagall,'
I had difficulty hiding my glee as I handed the note to Harry, then to Ron, and finally to Hermione to read.
"A Nimbus Two Thousand!" Ron moaned enviously. "I've never even touched one."
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.
Malfoy, wanting to say something to me, but realising that I wasn't alone, 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. Malfoy seemed to be thinking that the broom belonged to Harry. "You'll be in for it this time, Potter, first years aren't allowed them."
Before I could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow.
"Not arguing, I hope, boys and girls?" he squeaked.
"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," said Malfoy quickly.
"Potter's been sent a broom?" Flitwick asked, ready to write Harry up.
"It's mine, Professor." I cleared up the confusion, sneaking a quick glance at Malfoy who looked surprised.
"Oh, yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at me. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Darlington. And what model is it?"
"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir," I said, fighting not to laugh at the look of horror on Malfoy's face. "And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it," I added.
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I headed upstairs, smothering our laughter at Malfoy's obvious surprise and confusion.
"Well, it's true," Ron chortled as we reached the top of the marble staircase,
"If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall Y/n wouldn't be on the team...." Harry said,
As seven o'clock drew nearer, I left the castle and set off in the dusk toward the Quidditch field. I'd never been inside the stadium before.
Hundreds of seats were raised in stands around the field so that the spectators were high enough to see what was going on.
Too eager to fly again to wait for Wood, I mounted my new broomstick and kicked off from the ground.
"Hey, Darlington, come down!' Oliver Wood had arrived. He was carrying a large wooden crate under his arm. I landed next to him. "Very nice," said Wood, his eyes glinting.
"I see what McGonagall meant... you really are a natural. I'm just going to teach you the rules this evening, then you'll be joining team practice three times a week." He opened the crate.
"Right," said Wood. "Quidditch is easy enough to understand. Each time has seven players, three chasers, two beaters, one keeper and a seeker. That's you. There are three kinds of balls."
Wood took out a bright red ball about the size of a soccer ball.
"This ball's called the Quaffle," said Wood. "Now, the chasers handle the Quaffle and try to put it through one of those three hoops. The keeper, that's me, defends the hoops. The keeper, that's me, defends the hoops. With me so far?"
"Yep. So what are they for?" I pointed at the three balls left inside the box.
"Take this." He handed me a small club, a bit like a short baseball bat.
He bent down and freed one of the Bludgers. At once, the black ball rose high in the air and then pelted straight at my face.
I swung at it with the bat to stop it from breaking my nose, and sent it zigzagging away into the air -- it zoomed around our heads and then shot at Wood, who dived on top of it and managed to pin it to the ground.
"Bludger. Nasty little buggers. But you are a seeker, and the only thing I want you to worry about is this... the Golden Snitch." Bludger. Nasty little buggers. But you are a seeker, and the only thing I want you to worry about is this... the Golden Snitch." Wood reached into the crate and took out the fourth and last ball.
Compared with the Quaffle and the Bludgers, it was tiny, about the size of a large walnut. It was bright gold and had little fluttering silver wings.
"I like this ball," I admired the way the gold on it's surface glimmered in the sun.
"Ah, you like it now. Just wait. It's wicked fast and damn near impossible to see."
"What do I do with it?" I wondered,
"You catch it... before the other team's seeker. You catch this, the game is over. You catch this, Darlington, and we win."
🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌘
On Halloween morning we woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors.
Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought we were ready to start making objects fly.
Professor Flitwick put the class into pairs to practice. My partner was Harry, and Ron's partner was Hermione.
"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practising!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick."
Harry and I swished and flicked, but the feather we were supposed to be sending skyward just lay on the desktop.
Seamus, from the other side of the table, got so impatient that he prodded it with his wand and set fire to it -- Dean had to put it out with his hat.
Ron, at the next table, wasn't having much more luck.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill.
This had absolutely no effect on the feather.
Hermione, though, made hers float to the top to impress Lavender, I could tell.
Lavender, on the other hand was too busy looking at Parvati's painted nails to care, which left Hermione in a slightly depressed mood afterwards.
That evening when Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I had entered the great hall, all of our classwork worries had instantly disappeared from our heads.
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.
As I began helping myself to a handful of lollies, Hermione stood up from her seat.
"Where to?" I asked her, as she turned slightly pink, looking away from Parvati and Lavender.
"Just-" She sighed, "I'm going to go and paint my nails and do my hair in the girls bathroom," She confessed in a whisper.
I turned to look at where she was looking earlier and saw Parvati and Lavender showing off each other's nails and hair to each other.
"Want me to come with?" I offered, but Hermione quickly denied my request and sprinted off, her nail polish bottles clanking in her robe pockets, along the way.
I was just helping myself to a baked potato when 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." He then sank to the floor in a dead faint.
I got many worried looks from the high table. There was an uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence.
"Prefects," 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 prefect! Y/n come up front and stay next to me please!"
"What! Why?!"
"Special orders from Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape. Can't let you off my guard."
"What? Why the hell?!" I rolled my eyes.
As we jostled our way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, I suddenly grabbed Harry and Ron's arms.
"I've just thought -- Hermione."
"What about her?"
"She doesn't know about the troll."
"Right- where is she?" Harry began, looking around.
"Y/n! I said stay next to me!" Percy yelled from up ahead. Harry, Ron, and I ran up next to him.
"She went to the girls bathroom to do her hair! We have to go and save her!" I told Ron.
"Oh, all right," he said. "But Percy'd better not see us." he whispered.
Ducking down, we joined the Hufflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side 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 us behind a large stone griffin. Peering around it, however, we saw not Percy but Snape. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from view.
"The fuck is he up to?" I whispered.
"Why isn't he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?" Harry pondered.
"Search me." Ron said. Quietly as possible, we crept along the next corridor after Snape's fading footsteps.
"He's heading for the third floor," Harry said. We ran towards the girls' bathroom.
I pulled the door open and we ran inside.
"Hermione!" Hermione 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 to me.
"Oy, pea-brain!" I yelled from the other side of the chamber, and I threw a metal pipe at it. I confused the troll.
"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.
Harry then did something very brave and 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, but Harry's wand had not still been in his hand when he'd jumped - Hermione, having seen Harry's wand lying on the floor, picked it up and threw it to Harry.
Harry grabbed it. 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 own wand -- not knowing what he was going to do he heard himself cry 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, onto 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 and Hermione got to their feet.
They were shaking and out of breath. Ron was standing there with his wand still raised, staring at what he had done. It was me who spoke first.
"Is it -- dead?"
"I don't think so," said Harry,
"I think it's just been knocked out." Hermione said. Harry bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll's nose. It was covered in what looked like lumpy grey glue.
"Urgh -- troll boogers." He wiped it on the troll's trousers. A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the four of us look up. 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.
Snape bent over the troll. Professor McGonagall was looking at Ron, Hermione, Harry, and me.
I had never seen her look so angry and yet still so worried.
"What on earth were you thinking of?" said Professor McGonagall, after a while of thinking, with cold fury in her voice. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?" Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look, and then turned to look at me, before giving me a soft look.
"Professor McGonagall -- they were looking for me," Hermione looked at her shoes in guilt.
"Miss Granger!"
"If they hadn't found me, I would've been dead by now." She added, "Harry stuck his wand up its nose, Y/n kept me safe and confused the troll, 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."
"Well -- in that case..." said Professor McGonagall, staring at the four of us, "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, do you realise how dangerous it can be when you don't listen to Professors and head to your common rooms when told? Instead, you came wandering here!" Hermione hung her head.
"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 the Gryffindor tower,"
Hermione left, sending apologetic glances our way.
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 full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go."
Harry and Ron hurried out of the chamber, and when I went to follow them, a voice stopped me.
"Y/n, you may stay," McGonagall said.
"May or must?" I asked, wanting nothing more than to just return to my dorm and sleep. The other professors had left.
Or so I thought, Snape, continued to wait outside as if listening to the discussion. McGonagall kneeled down in front of me and looked well deep into my eyes.
I knew for sure at that moment, I was certain there were tears pooling in her eyes. Her eyes searched my face desperately to find any wounds or injuries and then my arms and legs.
"Are you hurt anywhere, dear?" She asked, her voice cracking slightly.
"No," I answered. She put her hands on either sides of my face before she pulled me in for a hug. She held me like that in place for a good minute before she let go and looked back at me.
"Are you really...?" She began,
"Really what?"
"Y/n Darlington," I was puzzled.
"Why wouldn't I be?" She looked pleased with my answer.
"D-Do you-" McGonagall thought for a moment, "Do you remember me?"
"I don't think we've ever met outside of Hogwarts, professor," McGonagall quickly turned her face away, and dabbed her tears off with a napkin.
"Oh, y/n," McGonagall seemed to have been feeling an overly large range of intense emotions. She hugged me one last time before she got up and told me to stay safe and to return to my dormitory at once.
I hurried off and met Ron, Harry, and Hermione waiting outside, and we didn't speak at all until we had climbed two floors up.
"We should have gotten more than fifteen points," I grumbled.
"Ten, you mean, once she's taken off Hermione's." Ron said,
"Right,"
"Pig snout," we said and entered. The common room was packed and noisy. Everyone was eating the food that had been sent up.
"Blimey, look at all that delicious food," I said, practically drooling. That was until I caught Percy's worried eyes. He was packing back and forth, not touching any of the food, or talking to anyone.
"You-!" he pointed at me and hurried over.
"Oh merlin's beard-" I looked over at Hermione with a pleading look to tell her to bring some food up to the dorms, before I speed-walked up the spiral staircase, ignoring Percy's shouts, pretending I didn't see him, while he desperately tried to reach to me through the crowd.
I had reached upstairs, and within no time, Hermione joined me with plates stacked with food.
There, was also Lavender and Parvati. We had a little feast of our own as first-year Gryffindor girls.
I liked this life.
I liked this life a lot.
My biggest nightmare was no longer about facing a twelve-foot-tall mountain troll or a massive three-headed dog, but waking up one morning back at the Dursleys and realising this was all a big dream.
🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌘
A/n: In case you didn't realise, "Search me", which is what Ron said earlier, basically means "I don't know,"