Harry waved his wand over the teapot sitting on the table. The teapot gave a brief shudder, then it began to change. It's form melted, flowing like liquid metal until it became an amorphous blob. Then that changed shape as well, six points protruded out of it to form four legs, a head, and a tail. The center began to flatten while the top maintained its somewhat dome-like shape.
Details began becoming clearer. Sharper. More defined. Bumpy ridges formed along what now looked like a shell. The skin along its legs became hard, rough, and gained a scaly appearance. Large toes with thick, pointed toenails formed at the ends. The head became sharper. A mouth formed along with a set of eyes and pronounced brow ridges. The skin became rough and leathery, while several wrinkles took shape under an elongated neck. Finally, a small, stubby tail began protruding from the other end of the shell.
Then it began to change color, going from the boring coppery color of the teapot to more earthy tones, grays and browns for the skin, and rusty greens and yellows for the shell. He added a few scratch marks onto the shell to give it a worn, used look for good measure. Sighing deeply, he finished the transfiguration with a flourish.
The whole process had taken close to five minutes. A lot longer than any of his other transfigurations had taken so far. Then again, this was third year course material, so perhaps he shouldn't be too surprised.
Wanting to see how good of a job he had done, Harry walked around the tortoise, inspecting it for any imperfections. It was a tad disconcerting how the tortoise's head moved along to follow him, its neck craning to keep its creator in sight, but he did his best to ignore the action in favor of his inspection.
It wasn't bad for a first attempt, Harry thought to himself, but it could use some improvements. The feet were malformed. He could see small areas that still looked like the metal along its shell. And while the head was shaped well enough, its brow ridges were too large. Not perfect, but he would improve with practice.
He also needed to work on the amount of time it took. He remembered when Professor McGonagall had turned her desk into a pig. The whole transfiguration had only taken a second. If he wanted to get that good, he would need to practice.
Waving his wand over the tortoise again, he undid the transfiguration and watched silently as it changed back into a teapot. At least his skills and untransfiguring objects and animals was getting a lot better.
Giving thoughts to his growing transfiguration skills, Harry had to admit that he was pleased with the progress he'd made. It had only been a month since he started and already he was doing third year transfiguration spells. Right now he was working on medium scale organic to inorganic, and inorganic to organic transfigurations. Changing medium sized animals to medium sized objects and visa versa. It was hard work, requiring both a lot of power and a lot of concentration, which was the reason transfiguration was such a difficult subject. It required a lot more concentration than Charms did.
It probably had something to do with how dangerous transfiguration was, he theorized. With Charms there wasn't much of a chance of something blowing up in your face unless your name was Seamus Finnegan. If you didn't do a Charm correctly it simply wouldn't work. On the other hand, transfigurations had the habit of turning deadly if done incorrectly. Granted, right now he wasn't doing anything potentially lethal yet, but once he got into human transfiguration things would get difficult.
There was also the fact that when transfiguring an object you needed to know what you wanted to change. With Charms you simply imagined what you wanted to happen, waved your wand with the correct movements, canted the incantation and it would work so long as you did everything correctly. When transfiguring it took more than just a basic imagination, wand waving and chanting. You had to see what you wanted to change in your mind, watch as the teapot transformed into the tortoise, or the rabbit change into the slippers. The more detailed the image in your mind, the better your transfiguration would be in real life.
A loud gurgling sound issued from his stomach and distracted Harry from his thoughts. A frown crossed his face and he looked down as more gurgling came forth, followed by mild hunger pains. He had eaten just a little under an hour ago. The fact that he was hungry again said a lot about how much energy he had expended while practicing.
With a sigh, Harry took one look around the classroom he had decided to use for his private studies. It was no different from any other classrooms. There were desks arrayed around the room, shelves that lined the walls, a chalkboard, and a teachers desk. But the room looked more worn than the others currently being used. Harry could see the dust on the desks, a layer of it several centimeters thick. This place had obviously not been used before he found it for a long time.
He shook his head. There were so many unused classrooms like this. He wondered how long it had been since these rooms had a class in them. Were they no longer in use because the wizarding world had less students now? He knew that during the war against Voldemort a number of magical families had been killed. He just hadn't expected it to have affected classes like this.
Deciding he to the kitchens to satisfy his hunger, as he had no desire to go to the Halloween Feast, Harry left the room behind.
He walked down one of the many corridors on the second floor, passing by suits of armor, some bowing, others saluting, one even flipped him off.
Along with the suits of armor, Harry saw several portraits. They lined either side of the wall and he could see the people moving within the landscapes.
For a second, Harry entertained the idea of using the portraits to create a spy network to let him know what was going on in the castle. With the people within the portraits ability to move from one painting to the next and communicate with each other, the potential to have a spy network that expanded the entire school of Hogwarts was incredible. And the best part was that no one would be the wiser. Magical children tended to ignore the portraits as they had seen them there whole life, and while children of non-magical families were in awe of them the first few days, the novelty eventually wore off for them as well. No one would ever suspect that the old hag you passed by in a painting could very well be watching your every move and reporting it back to someone.
Of course, the potential for a spy network was only useful so long as no one else had thought of it. Harry did not doubt for one second that Dumbledore must have done so. He had to have. If the man had even an ounce of the intelligence and wisdom lauded to him, then he would have. And if he had, then he would be alerted to the fact that Harry was trying to form a spy network with the paintings as well, should he make an attempt.
The thought of using the network of paintings and portraits as spies was only a passing thought in the mind of Harry Potter. Potentially useful, but not worth the risks. He put it out of his mind a second later.
It was just as Harry let the last remaining vestige of his previous thoughts fade that a loud, shrill scream pierced the air. It was a sound that came from someone experiencing fear, a primal terror of someones deepest, darkest fears.
He also recognized the voice. It was several decibels higher than normal, and loud enough to rattle glass, but even with that change Harry's eidetic memory easily took the voice's pitch and tone, and reference it with the hundreds of other voices he had heard in his life to find a match.
It was Hermione Granger.
And she was screaming in fear.
The sounds of her scream were cut off and quickly followed by a loud bellowing that Harry had never heard before in his life. It didn't sound the least bit human. The roar was also followed by something else: the sound of something shattering and another shrill scream.
By the time Harry's mind caught up with the rest of his body, he realized that his legs were already taking him to the screams. He ran down the hall, turned a corner, cut down another hall, then turned left at the end. The scream sounded again, followed by a roar, followed by more shattering, and Harry soon stood in front of the girl's bathroom. The door was open.
Harry didn't even slow down as he bodily flew toward the entrance, running into the room without hesitation, only to skid to a stop at the sight before him.
The scene was not a pleasant one. The entire bathroom looked like a hurricane had swept through it, then a tornado decided to join in on the fun for good measure. All around the room lay broken and scattered pieces of toilets, stall doors, and chunks of twisted metal that looked like a giant had chewed them up, then spat them back out when he found their taste to be unpleasant.
He could see Hermione Granger huddled under the sink in the far corner, the only sink left, her form shivering in fear. And looming above her was the largest, ugliest creature he had ever seen.
It looked human, or at least humanoid. It stood on two large feet attached to equally large, ungainly legs. It wore nothing more than a loin cloth and a frayed looking sleeveless shirt to cover its body. A large belly hung over the front of its loin cloth, looking like those pot belly's that hung out of people's shirts and spilled over their pants; the kind of stomach Harry saw on people who were too lazy to exercise and drank too much alcohol. The massive, hulking figure had equally large hands. They looked like they could squash a human flat if given the chance. In one of those hands, the monster was gripping a large, wooden club, clearly the cause of the destruction to the room.
His gaze finally settled on the thing's face. Its head was disturbingly small compared to the rest of its body. It had a very dopey-looking facial expression. The creature's general features denounced a lack of intelligence. Black beady eyes were set above a large nose under an equally large mouth that had drool hanging from its lower lip, and he could see stained yellow teeth in its open mouth. It looked like a cross between a mentally deranged Rottweiler and a deformed baby. He recognized it from his self-study in defense as a troll.
It had stopped with its club half raised above his head and was looking right at him. Harry couldn't decide if that was good or not, but at least it meant Hermione was safe... for the moment.
Not wanting to be crushed by the creature or smacked by its club by getting too close, Harry flicked his wand at several broken pieces of toilet. The objects lifted into the air, hovering there, and another flick of his wand sent them sailing directly at the creature, pelting its face.
The beast roared and started swinging both its club and its free hand to try and swat the large chunks of toilet seat fragments out of the sky. Another flick of Harry's wrist sent even more broken objects flying at the creature, effectively distracting it.
“What are you doing just standing there!?” Harry asked, shouting at Hermione to be heard above the angry roaring. The girl looked at him like she had never seen him before, her mouth hanging open dumbly and her eyes wide. He wouldn't be surprised if she was going into shock. At least her trembling stopped. “Get over here!”
Hermione scrambled to her feet. The troll roared again and made to step toward her, but Harry sent another part of the rooms broken décor at it. The stall door smacked it in the face, causing it to bellow in both surprise and pain as it staggered back. In that time, Hermione ran over to him, and Harry did not waste another second in grabbing her hand and pulling her through the door in a dead sprint.
They had barely made it 10-feet from the bathroom when a loud roar sounded out. The sound was followed by the a loud crash as the troll smashed through the bathrooms entrance, sending stone fragments bouncing along the walls and floor.
It looked around, its head swiveling left and right before it spotted them running down the hall. Another loud bellow leapt from its gaping maw and it soon began charging them, its large feet smacking against the stone floor with the sound of war drum as it began to quickly catch up with its larger strides.
“Dammit!” Harry hissed as he let go of Hermione's hand and spun around. His wand was out quicker than the human eye could blink. He waved it at the suit of armor closest to the rampaging troll. The suit lifted off the ground and flew at the creature, smacking it flush in the face.
The troll angry bellow reverberated along the walls as its club swung down, hitting the chest plate. A loud noise issued from the plate mail, like the crack of thunder. The chest plate squealed as it dented and went flying into a wall where it dented some more, the wall itself cracking under the powerful blow.
Harry swore as the creature forgot about the armor entirely and turned its sights back on them. He looked left to see Hermione staring at the monstrosity in fear and swore some more.
“What the hell are you still doing here!?” he demanded. Hermione turned to him, her eyes wide and her face pale. “Get out of here! Go!”
“But—“ Hermione tried to argue feebly, but Harry was having none of it.
“GO!”
In accordance with Harry's desires his magic flowed out, connecting to Hermione, compelling her to run. Normally, it would be very difficult to compel a magical being to do anything, especially subconsciously like Harry was doing, but with his desperation fueling his already powerful magic, the compulsion managed to take hold despite Hermione's resilience. The mousy-haired brunette's eyes widened as the desire to flee overcame her, and her body responded to the external stimulus by turning on the spot and bolting down the corridor.
His sigh of relief was short lived as the troll had closed in on him during his preoccupation. It swung its club down with a loud grunt, the heavy wooden object moving far faster than should be possible for something of its size.
Harry dodged by moving into a forward shoulder-roll that took him past the clubs point of impact. The club smacked the ground where he had been, denting it, sending cracks along the stone surface. Harry continued his roll, moving under the troll's legs.
He kipped back to his feet when he was behind it, his wand flashing out again, pointing at the creature's legs as he sent a leg-locking jinks. The spell struck the creature's left leg, only for nothing to happen. No straightening of limbs that had been locked in place. No loss of balance as the leg stiffened up. Nothing. It was as if the spell hadn't affected the troll at all.
Harry's eyes barely had time to widen as the troll spun around. It's club sailed towards him, the air screeching around it due to the speed with which it moved. Harry barely avoided the attack by letting himself fall backwards. He fell onto his back, then rolled with the move, before kipping back up to his feet and beginning to back pedal.
His wand arm flashed out, a slashing motion that he directed at the beast. A bright white light shot from the tip of his wand, the stinging hex hitting the troll in the belly, but again, there seemed to be little effect beyond the creature getting annoyed.
It roared at him, whether angered at not hitting him or the stinging hex, Harry didn't know. Whatever the case was, it came charging in once again and Harry was forced to sidestep another club swipe. He flicked his wand arm at another suit of armor and sent it at the creature, then another flick caused the suit to split into multiple pieces that floated around the beast in an effort to distract it, while he tried to figure out why none of his spells were working.
Could it be that he wasn't putting enough power into his spells? That skin of it's looked tough. Maybe if he just put more power into his spells...
While the troll was busy trying to swat the armor out of the air, Harry sent another stinging hex its way, this time with much more power than before. The spell soared through the air, a bright white light that smacked against the troll's hide.
The troll let out a roar of annoyance and Harry's eyes narrowed when he saw that the spell had not even left a mark. On a human, a stinging hex of that power would have left a welt the size of his head for several days without magical treatment...
Were the situation not so dire, Harry would have groaned as he realized the problem. Of course. This creature just had to be magically resistant. That was the only explanation he could think of. Trolls were magical creatures, more so than a witch or wizard. It must have a very high level of resistance to most compulsion spells, minor hexes and jinks. Only a high level spell would be able to damage this thing.
Which meant Harry was pretty much out of luck. He hadn't studied offensive spells beyond the few taught in first year Defense Against the Dark Arts. He hadn't seen a need to. After all, why should he expect any kind of danger at a school protected by some of the most powerful enchantments known to wizard kind? Instead he had focused his efforts and private studies on transfiguration in preparation for becoming an animagus.
He was beginning to regret that decision now.
As the troll let out another roar and decided to ignore bashing the armor with his club in favor of smashing through the small blockade of floating objects to get to him, Harry decided that if he managed to survive this encounter, the first thing he would do was begin looking up offensive spells.
Dodging swing after swing from the much larger being's club, Harry had never been more thankful for his martial arts training. The troll was not only stronger than him, but also incredibly fast, much faster than he would have ever expected a creature of that size to be. As things stood, the only reason Harry had not become a bloody smear on the ground was because of his experience in fighting opponents much more skilled than it (Master Wei), who didn't telegraph their moves to him.
Not that this creature's poorly telegraph moves mattered. Its hide was too tough for his spells to work against it, and its body too strong and durable for him to think of taking it on up close. As far as he could see, there was simply no way someone with a few weak first year defense spells could beat it. And unfortunately, if he did not defeat it, then it would kill him. He only needed to slip up once and he would be dead.
Well, if he couldn't beat it, maybe he could make it beat itself. Master Wei had always told him that if an opponent was too strong for him to beat, then he should find some way to use their strength against them. First he would have to find some way to get rid of that club, then maybe he could –
“HARRY!”
– His thoughts derailed, Harry's eyes widened in both shock and horror as he saw Hannah, Lisa, Neville, Susan and Terry rounding a corner. What the hell were they doing here!?
The five stopped upon seeing him, their bodies freezing in fear as they realized he was currently in a life or death struggle with a troll nearly three times their height and several dozen times their weight.
Harry dodged another club swing and flicked his wand at a helmet that had fallen to the ground, sending it hurtling at the troll's face. There was a loud clang as it smacked the creature, and the troll roared in both pain and anger, giving Harry enough time to try and convince his friends to run.
“What the bloody hell are you guys doing here!?” Shouted Harry. Another flick of his wand followed. Another piece of discarded armor crashed into the troll, angering it further. “Get out of here! Go find a teacher!”
Surprisingly enough, it was Neville who stepped forward, his wand clutched tightly in his shivering fist. In fact, his entire body was shivering. Despite the fear he obviously felt, he didn't seem to be leaving.
“We-we're n-not going t-t-to leave you,” he muttered frightfully, his eyes wide and his breathing labored as he stared at the behemoth in front of them. He was clearly terrified of going up against the troll. The others said nothing, busy as they were staring in fear at the thing.
“You can't do any good here!” Harry countered frantically as he began magically throwing more and more objects at the troll to keep it distracted. It was working, partially at least. It wasn't looking at his friends, though by now it had figured out that he was causing the objects to attack it and was only swatting the armor that blocked its way to him. “RUN! Go find a teacher!”
In spite of his words, none of them ran. Hannah, Susan and Lisa stood where they were, quivering in the presence of a beast few adult wizards could take down. Terry didn't look much better, but at least he had his wand out.
“I'm not leaving!” Neville shouted, and despite the tremor in his voice, he held his wand aloft. He made a jerky slashing motion and sent a stinging hex the troll's way. The hex fizzled out before it could make it even halfway there. Neville had always had troubles with defensive spells, and in a situation like this, where his terror was nearly overpowering him, the chances of him accomplishing a spell was close to zero.
However, while the stinging hex may not have done anything to its intended target, it did have the effect of snapping Terry out of his stupor. The Ravenclaw first year sent his own hex at the troll, and it did hit the beast. Right on its rear.
Of course, the spell was not powerful enough for the troll to even feel it. Thus it did nothing, and Harry was forced to continue dodging the creature as he tried to convince his friends to run.
“Dammit, Neville! None of you can do anything against this thing! Its too strong! Get out of here now!”
Neville didn't seem to be listening to Harry though. Instead he had turned to the girls and Terry.
“We need to help him!” he said, his tone desperate, pleading. “Come on you guys! We need to do something!”
Lisa snapped out of her fright first. She looked at the troll, then at Neville, then at the other four with her.
“Maybe we could... if we attack it together we might be able to do something.”
“It's as good a plan as any,” Terry muttered in a shaky voice. He held up his wand and sent another stinging hex the troll's way with both Neville and Lisa doing the same. Neville's fizzled out again. Lisa's and Terry's hit, but it still didn't do anything.
“Come on you two,” Neville pleaded with Susan and Hannah. “We need your help.”
Hannah sucked in a deep breath, then turned wide eyes to Neville. After a moment, she closed her eyes and tried to control her frantic breathing. She still looked frightened, but it seemed as if she was at least not allowing it to control her. Susan came around at the same time and looked at Harry, her eyes gaining a determined glint that shown clearly under her fear.
“Ok,” she whispered as she and Susan both pulled out their wands. Lisa, Neville and Terry followed suit, and all five of them sent a stinging hex at the troll. This time the spells not only hit, but the combined stinging hexes actually caused the creature to yowl in pain as it stumbled forward. Harry used the distraction to send another piece of armor at its face in the hopes it would stay focused on him.
It was not to be. It seemed that the combined stinging hexes hurt more than the armor hitting it had, and thus the troll deemed the five behind it a larger threat.
Harry swore as it spun around and began charging at the five with an earth-shattering bellow. Even worse, his friends had frozen when they saw the behemoth rushing towards them with its club arm raised. He needed to do something and he needed to do it fast if he wanted to get all of them out of this in once piece.
In a last ditch effort, Harry pumped massive amounts of magic through his body, enhancing it beyond anything he had ever done before. He wouldn't be able to hold it for long, not without suffering severe consequences, but it would hopefully be enough for this.
He raced down the hall, his magically enhanced body almost but not quite matching the troll's own loping speed. Damn those much longer legs. He needed to slow this thing down.
A flick of his wrist and several dozen pieces of armor crashed into the creature's legs and feet, making it stumble. It lost its balance, crashing onto its hands and knees. Harry used that time to catch up and then did the unthinkable, not to mention the incredibly stupid.
He jumped onto its back.
It was hands down the dumbest thing he had ever done in his life, but Harry was barely even thinking straight at this point.
He flicked his wand and a stream of rope shot out. It looped around the troll's neck three times, then Harry caught the end with his other hand and tightened it.
The troll jerked upwards to its feet with an angry roar, its club lying forgotten on the ground. Its hands reached back to try and grab him, but the rope keeping him up began lengthening and Harry slid onto its lower back where it couldn't reach him.
For a moment, Harry dared to hope he had finally been given some breathing room. The troll couldn't reach him, he was finally up close, and he had a small window of opportunity to hurt it, if he could actually find a means to hurt it.
That thought was dashed into tiny pieces when the troll, unable to remove him from its back, began thrashing around like a raging bull in an effort to throw him off.
Harry was flung about like a rag doll. His right hand remained grasping the end of the rope tightly, while his left still had his wand clutched firmly, but that meant little when the rope had so much slack that his body was still violently flung off the troll's back. He could only count his blessings that the troll had not yet smacked him into a wall as there would be little to no chance of him getting up from that.
Seeing his plight, his friends once more began casting stinging hexes at the troll. Despite there good intentions, however, it was probably the worst decision they could have made. Rather than bring the beast down, the spells merely enraged it further. Its thrashing and shaking and floundering picked up in intensity, and Harry found himself getting smacked into several suits of armor that banged up his legs and back as he was tossed about like a fruit salad being handled by a mad chef on crack.
Barely containing his flinch when the bones in his shin snap as they hit hard metal, Harry began shunting the pain to the side and focused on reeling the rope in so he could find better purchase on the troll's back. No matter what happened, if he wanted to have any hope of surviving the next few seconds much less this encounter, he needed to have some kind of footing to keep steady.
It wasn't an easy task, especially with how violent the troll shook and the amount of pain his legs were in, but he had felt far worse before. The rope tightened as it 'moved' back into his wand like a fishing line being reeled in. His feet touched the troll's back and, for a moment, Harry began hoping that he would have some time to think up a plan. Even a second to catch a breather would be nice.
Apparently, it was too much to hope for.
The troll felt his feet as they planted themselves on its back and, having not had any luck catching him so far, decided to do probably the only thing it could to get him off.
It rammed into the wall back first.
Harry would have screamed in pain as the feeling of being crushed by mountains of muscle and the dense, hard granite of the wall speared through his body, but all of the air had been driven from his lungs, so all that came out was a pained rush of breath and a shaky gasp.
He could feel his rib cage being brutally crushed by the surprise move. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. Like someone had just dropped an anvil on his chest, then decided to have a several ton elephant jump on him for good measure. It was pain beyond all belief and comprehension and nothing, not his spars with Master Wei, nor the occasional lashing he received from Vernon when he was younger, could have prepared him for this.
His vision began to blur. Everything became fuzzy, like the white noise you see in old black and white photos. Blackness invaded the edges of his vision.
Blood was beginning to fill his lungs. His mind, hazy from the pain and beginning to darken, could not even begin to catalog the damage done to him. But somewhere in the back of his mind, he could tell that his ribs had been crushed and several bone fragments from his ribcage had penetrated his lungs.
Breathing was becoming difficult. Already he could feel himself choking on the blood filling his air passages. Each breath brought not only excruciating amounts of asphyxiated agony, but also blood that spilled out of his mouth and ran down his chin.
Somehow, he wasn't sure how, or even fully aware of it, he still managed to keep a grip on his wand and the rope.
He couldn't help but wonder, as darkness continued to encroach on his vision, was this how he was going to die? Was this his end? Dying at the hands of a stupid beast that somehow snuck into the castle? Killed before he could ever achieve his dreams?
Such a thought would have normally left him in a rage, but he was beginning to feel tired. Too tired to call up even the smallest hint of anger, or any emotion for that matter. All he wanted to do was sleep.
Yes, that sounded nice. A good long rest. He felt he deserved that much at least.
“HARRY!”
Harry's eyes snapped open as the sound of five voices made him realize that his friends were still there. If he died now his friends would be killed. And despite any attempts at telling himself otherwise they were his friends. They weren't a means to an end anymore. He couldn't pretend that he was only concerned about what an alliance with them would bring. Where once it was all he concerned with, the benefits brought about by their friendship now seemed a trifling matter.
He might not care for them as much as he did Lisa Crawft, but he did care for them. Over the course of this past month he had come to greatly enjoy their presence. They were all so different, yet at the same time, they meshed together so well.
If variety is the spice of life, then they brought a lot of spice into his life.
He couldn't let them die. He wouldn't let them die.
In a last act of desperation, Harry completely opened the gates that kept his magic at bay. He could feel it beginning to flood into his body, could feel the excess leaking from him like an overflowing sieve.
And he could feel the small speck of darkness. The kernel of something that was not him, but still there, an evil that he had always known existed inside of himself, but had never been able to get rid of.
Those thoughts and others were washed away as soon as they came. They disappeared in an instant as the effect's of unblocking all of his magic became reality. The blood that had been choking him before stopped flooding his lungs. The intense agonizing pain that was his crushed ribcage diminished. And the fuzzy blackness that threatened to overwhelm him was pushed back.
With more strength then he should have been capable of, Harry pulled himself up the creature's back. He let go of the rope and grabbed a fistful of the troll's shirt. The rope dispersed from his wand as he brought the instrument down and shoved it into the troll's ear point first.
The troll howled and began to shake as its hand came up to grab him, but Harry made his move before it could do so. He dredged up all the magic he could possibly control and sent it to his wand with only one thought on his mind.
To make sure this thing couldn't hurt his friends.
As his magic left him, and darkness descended upon his vision, the last thing he saw before meeting oblivion was the troll's head exploding in a spray of blood and brain matter.