Draco Malfoy is obviously shocked when he sees that Harry, Ron and I are still at Hogwarts the next morning, tired but perfectly cheerful. In fact, meeting the three-headed dog seems like the perfect adventure, and we're keen to have another one. However, right now, Harry is filling Ron in on the package that Hagrid seemed to have moved from Gringotts to Hogwarts, and what could possibly need such protection. And frankly, they don't really care about that. They just want to find a way to get back at Malfoy.
Such a way arrives in the mail a week later. In the form of mine and Harry's new broomsticks. A letter accompanies them, telling us not to open them at the table and when our first practice is. Harry hands the note to Ron as I squeal in delight.
"A Nimbus Two Thousand!" Ron moans enviously. "I've never even touched one."
We leave to go unwrap them, but find our way barred by Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. Malfoy seizes Harry's package and inspects it.
"That's a broomstick," he says in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Thanks, genius. We've noticed," I say sarcastically. Malfoy looks at me, his expression softening just a bit.
"Not just any broomstick," Ron boasts, "they're Nimbus Two Thousands. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty? Those look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus."
"Hmph. I don't think you could get a Nimbus if you saved up twig by twig, Weasley," Malfoy fires back. Just then, little Professor Flitwick appears at Malfoy's elbow.
"Not arguing, I hope, students?" he squeaks.
"The Potters have got broomsticks, Professor," Malfoy says quickly, and Professor Flitwick beams at Harry and I.
"Yes, yes, Professor McGonagall told me about the special circumstances. And what model are they?"
"Nimbus Two Thousands, sir," I say, fighting not to laugh at the look of horror on Malfoy's face. "And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that we've got them," I add. Harry, Ron and I run off, snorting with laughter.
At quarter to seven that evening, Harry and I take our new broomsticks out for a test ride. And mine is amazing. It goes so fast it blows my hair back in a banner behind me. It turns at the lightest touch from my hand, or even leaning.
"Hey, Potters, down here!"
Oliver Wood has arrived. He's carrying a large wooden crate under his at!, and harry and I land next to him. I don't really listen as Wood explains Quidditch to Harry, as I already know the rules.
"This is a Bludger," Wood is saying. "Rory, as a Chaser, you've got to worry about these. Harry not so much."
"Unless they crack my head open," says Harry.
"Don't worry, the Weasley's are more than a match for the Bludgers - I mean, they're like a pair of human Bludgers themselves," Wood replies.
After finishing explaining, Wood has us up of our brooms, and makes me throw golf balls to specific places for Harry to catch, and to evaluate my aiming skills and my brother's catching skills. Afterwards, he gets out the Snitch for Harry and has him catch it over and over again while he has me try to score goals with him guarding. I make about 48 out of 50.
"Rory, that's just as good as Angelina and Katie, my two current Chasers, score," Wood tells me. "Have you met them?"
"Oh, thank you," I say. "And yes, I have met them. They came over to congratulate me when I got the spot on the team."
"Good. You three will work beautifully as a team. This is the year that Gryffindor will have their name on the Quidditch cup, I just know it."
Today is Halloween, and it's hard to believe that I've been at Hogwarts for two whole months. I woke up this morning to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. And in Charms class, Professor Flitwick announces that we are ready to learn the levitation charm. He puts us into pairs, and Ron, much to my amusement, is partnered with Hermione. I, much to Ron and Harry's amusement and my embarrassment, am partnered with Draco Malfoy.
"Now, don't forget the swish and flick movement!" squeaks Professor Flitwick. "And the words too, Wingardium Leviosa!"
"Wingadrium Leviosa!" Ron shouts, swishing his wand.
"You're saying it wrong," Hermione says. "It's Win-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, and make the 'gar' nice and long."
"You do it then!" Ron snarls.
Hermione rolls up the sleeves of her robes, flicks her wand, and says, "Wingardium Leviosa!"
Their feather rises off the desk and hovers about four feet above their heads. Professor Flitwick claps, saying, "Oh, look, Miss Granger's done it!"
Ron turns red and sinks in his seat. I decide to try it. I swish my wand and say, "Wingardium Leviosa!"
Nothing happens. My feather stays firmly on the desk. Then Malfoy grabs my wrist gently. He says kindly, "You're doing the movement wrong. Swish and flick, see? You keep forgetting to flick."
He moves my hand in the correct motion, then turns a pale shade of pink and he looks away. His hand lingers on my wrist just a bit longer than normal. My face turns red. and I give him a small smile. He returns it and blushes just a bit more.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" I say, swishing and flicking my wand like he showed me. Our feather floats above our heads.
"And Miss Potter has done it, too!" Flitwick cheers. I look shyly at Malfoy.
"Thank you, Draco," I say, using his first name. But then I curse myself. Do I fancy him? Oh, Rory, honestly! Just go for Fred, at least you know he's nice.
He seems as shocked as I am to address him as 'Draco' rather than 'Malfoy'.
"Um . . . no problem, Rory," he says. My heart skips a beat. He called me Rory.
At the end of class, Ron is a very bad mood.
"It's no wonder no one can stand her," he says loudly to Harry and I as we push our way through the crowded corridor, "she's a nightmare, honestly. And she has no friends."
Someone knocks into me as they run past. I catch a glimpse of bushy brown hair. Hermione flees to the girls loo.
"Ronald Weasley!" I snap, wheeling around. "You knew she was there! You knew she would hear you! And you said that anyways. You can be such a git sometimes! You never think about things before you do them or say them! And she heard you, now she's probably crying in the girls loo. I'll see you two later, and Ronald, start thinking about things before you say them."
I leave Ron red-faced and embarrassed in the hallway with Harry as I run off to find my friend.
"Hermione?" I call, knocking on a locked stall door. "I know you're in there."
"Go away, Rory," she sniffles.
"Come on, Hermione, I need to talk to you. Please let me in?"
I hear a click, then the door swings open and Hermione pulls me into the cubicle, then shuts and locks the door again. Her face if red and tearstained.
"Why is he so mean to me?!" she sobs, sliding to the floor. I sit next to her.
"He's just jealous that you're smarter than he is," I say, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
"But that's no reason to be mean," she wails.
"He doesn't think before he does things, Hermione. He never has and probably never will. It doesnt matter."
"But he's right, I don't have any friends," she sobs.
I look at her like she's crazy.
"You know that is in no way true! I'm you're friend, Luna's your friend, Harry's your friend, and Ron's your friend, he's just too bloody stupid to realize it."
"You mean it?" Hermione asks.
"Every word of it," I reply. She hugs me.
"Thanks, Rory," she says. "You're the best friend I could ask for."
I sit with her for about two hours, talking about this and that, everything from crushes to Quidditch. At about dinner time, I stand up.
"I'm going to the feast now. I'm starving," I announce.
"I might join you later."
"You sure?" I ask. Hermione nods. I unlock the stall door, then shut it behind me. Hermione locks it again from the inside. I head to the Great Hall, looking in wonder at the extravagant Halloween decorations. A thousand live bats swoop over our heads. Carved pumpkins float in midair with the candles. I join Ron and Harry at the table. The twins sit on either side of me, and Fred immediately starts flirting again. Until Professor Quirrel runs in, his turban askew and terror on his face.
"Troll! In the dungeons! Tr-troll in the dungeons!" he screams. Everyone stares at him like he's lost his marbles, which he probably has.
"Thought you ought to know," Quirrel gasps, then he sinks to the floor in a dead faint. The Great Hall erupts into screams, and Dumbledore has to shoot off purple fireworks for silence.
"Prefects, please lead your houses back to their dormitories," he rumbles. Fred grabs my elbow and pulls me to my feet, dragging me along. But there's so many people rushing about that we get separated, and I lose sight on him, but run (quite literally) into Ron and Harry. I tumble to the ground, and Ron pulls me up again so I won't get stepped on. Suddenly, Harry stops. We all look at each other, realizing the same thing at the time.
"HERMIONE!" we all yell. I pull Ron and Harry around a corner and we sneak down the corridor, but almost get caught.
"Snape!" Ron hisses, and I snatch his hand as my brother grabs me around the waist and pulls me behind a nearby pillar. We stay in that position, gripping each other and breathing hard.
"What is he doing?" I breathe into where my face is squished into Ron's robes.
"Search me," replies Ron. After a few painful seconds, Snape swoops off. We relax and untangle from each other.
"Troll!" I squeal. The troll lumbers into a nearby room, and the key is in the lock, so Harry darts out and slams the door, turning the key. As he rejoins us, my eyes go wide.
"Oh, my gosh, Harry, that was the girls bathroom!"
"HERMIONE!" we yell again. Running to the door, Harry unlocks it again, and we open it to see Hermione shrinking against the opposite wall, looking like she's going to faint. I sprint over to her and grab her, trying to pull her to safety. Meanwhile, Ron and Harry grab prices of the destroyed bathroom and start throwing them at the troll.
"Over here, ugly!"
"Look at us, stupid!"
I pull on Hermione, but she sinks to the floor, refusing to move.
"Come on, Hermione, you've got to move!" I wail.
Harry then does something very brave and very stupid. He runs and jumps on the troll's back, accidentally sticking his wand up the troll's nose in the process. It howls and waves its arms, turning in circles frantically, with Harry clinging on for dear life.
"Ron, do something!" I scream, picking up a broken pipe and throwing it as hard as I can at the troll's face. My aim is true and it hits the angry thing in the eye.
"No wonder Wood wanted you as a Chaser, Rory!" Ron hollers.
"Don't talk, shut up and do something!" I shriek, dragging my limp friend to her feet. Ron pulls his wand out and yells the first spell that pops into his head.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
The troll's club is wrenched from it's grasp to float high above it's head. The club slowly rotates in the air and drops with a crunch onto it's owner's head. The troll sways on the spot, then falls flat on it's face with a crash that shakes the room. We all stay still and silent for a moment; Ron's wand raised above his head, Harry standing on the troll's back, and me with Hermione's hand in one of my own and a piece of pipe in the other. Slowly, we return to normal positions. I drop the pipe I'm holding. Finally, Hermione speaks up, her voice trembling, "Is it dead?"
"I think its just unconscious, " Harry says, pulling his wand out of the troll's nose and wiping it on it's woven pants. We all groan.
The door slams open, and Professor Snape, Professor Quirrel, and Professor McGonagall burst in. Professor Quirrel, however, sinks to a seat on a toilet, clutching his heart at the sight if the troll.
"What on earth were you thinking!?" McGonagall hisses, pursing her lips. "Taking on a full grown mountain troll by yourself!"
The four of us look at each other, identical worried expressions on our faces.
"Why weren't you in your dormitories?! You could have been killed!" McGonagall snaps.
"Please, Professor, they were looking for me," says Hermione quietly.
"Miss Granger!"
"I went looking for the troll. I've read about them and thought that I could handle it, but I was wrong."
I can't believe it. Hermione Granger, the straight-A, perfect student, is flat out lying to a teacher. And not just any teacher, but McGonagall! I stare at her in disbelief.
"If Harry, Rory, and Ron hadn't found me, I'd probably be dead."
McGonagall stares strictly at the four of us for a moment.
"Well, in that case, Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this."
Our Head of House turns to Harry, Ron and I.
"Not many teachers, let alone older students, could take on a fully grown mountain troll. Five points will be awarded to each of you. I will inform Professor Dumbledore of this. Now go to your dormitories."
With that, McGonnagall truns on her heel and leaves, followed by Snape and Quirrel.
The four of us walk back to the common room in silence. From then on, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I become best friends. There are some things you just can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve foot mountain troll is one of them.