The Sunday practice was nothing short of grueling. Oliver had lent Harry his Cleansweep six, but the Weasley twins were relentless, bombarding him with bludgers. To make matters worse, the elusive snitch kept Harry racing around the stadium in the biting cold wind for nearly an hour before it was finally caught. Despite the challenges, Harry felt a growing fondness for the sport; after all, as much as he enjoyed flying, there was something thrilling about the game.
On Tuesday morning, Harry found himself seated between Alicia and Katie, with Oliver across from him, as the team stood guard against supposed 'attacks' from Ron, the jealous redhead and brother of the Weasley twins. As the morning post arrived, a small flock of seven owls swooped in, carrying a large package — a broomstick wrapped in paper. This spectacle caught the attention of numerous students, as well as a certain potions master who felt compelled to investigate the source of the distraction, presumably hoping to seize points from Gryffindor.
"First years are forbidden from owning their own brooms," Snape sneered, eyeing the wrapped broom nestled between Harry and Oliver. "I expect twenty points from Gryffindor and a lifetime confiscation of that broom to impress upon you the importance of adhering to rules, Potter."
"But, Professor Snape, that broom is mine," Oliver protested, revealing the order tag attached to the package. "There's no rule prohibiting upperclassmen from owning multiple brooms. I'd appreciate it if you reconsidered the points you unjustly penalized us for." Snape, visibly irritated, begrudgingly restored the twenty points he had just taken from Gryffindor, only to take ten points back for 'wasting his time' before stalking off to the teachers' table.
The Gryffindor Quidditch team broke into grins, reveling in their captain's cleverness: they'd secured a broom for their first-year seeker!
/ *** \
Between lessons, homework, self-study, and Quidditch practices, Harry had little time to dwell on anything else. This distraction kept him from the headaches that would undoubtedly arise from having to avoid Ron the Prat and remain composed amid his rants about Harry being a fame-hungry traitor.
As September's sun gave way to the brisk winds of October, Halloween approached. The castle transformed into a scene right out of a ghost story, adorned with live bats, cobwebs, and carved pumpkins flickering with candlelight. Despite the festive atmosphere, Harry felt no inclination to celebrate; it was the anniversary of his parents' murder at the hands of Voldemort. Though it was only noon and he still had two classes before the feast, the weight of the day loomed heavily over him.
Herbology was tolerable: Neville was empathetic to his plight, sticking closely to the lesson, while Dean and Parvati, extracting seeds from red-stem brier berries, seemed overly cheerful for Harry's comfort. He couldn't blame them; they lacked the dark memories that haunted him.
In Charms, which Gryffindors shared with Ravenclaws, Harry's focus on levitating big white feathers helped ease his somber thoughts. Familiar with the importance of intent from his Transfiguration practices, he mastered the levitation charm on his sixth attempt, earning Gryffindor five points. Not long after, Padma, Su, and Hermione, all quickly followed suit. Even Neville joined in shortly thereafter.
While the boys from Gryffindor and a few playful Ravenclaws engaged in a friendly feather race above the tables, Hermione was trying to assist Ron, who struggled with the charm. Unfortunately, her well-meaning advice only seemed to aggravate him.
By class's end, Ron snapped at her in frustration. "For Merlin's sake, leave me alone, you annoying know-it-all! No one can stand you! Just disappear so normal people won't suffer your presence!"
Harry's fist connected with Ron's cheek before he could think, fueled by anger at his friend's cruelty. "You're a self-centered prat for insulting Hermione for trying to help her. I'm ashamed to share a house with you," he spat, storming out of the classroom in search of Hermione, who had vanished without a trace. Navigating the vast castle felt daunting, and he hoped she wouldn't end up doing something rash.
Hermione didn't appear at the Halloween feast, and Harry's concern grew. Through fellow students Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot, he learned she was locked in one of the girls' toilets, crying and demanding to be left alone.
The green-eyed wizard sighed. He knew he had to give her time, but if she was not in the common room by curfew, he would seek her out. Scanning the Great Hall, he noted that Hermione wasn't the only missing person; Professor Quirrell was absent as well, being the sole faculty member absent.
Moments later, Professor Quirrell burst into the hall, his turban askew and panic etched across his face. "Troll! Troll in the dungeons!" he yelled with apparent terror. "Thought you ought to know…" He fainted, collapsing to the floor.
Chaos erupted as students screamed in fear—Quirrell's act was too convincing for anyone to see it as a joke. It took Professor Dumbledore a booming spell to quiet the hall.
"Prefects!" he commanded. "Take your houses back to the dormitories immediately!" Harry's mind raced; something felt off. The Hufflepuff and Slytherin dormitories were in the dungeons. While Hufflepuff was safe, the Slytherin quarters likely put many students at risk.
Then it hit Harry: Hermione didn't know about the troll! He had to warn her. As Percy guided Gryffindor students towards safety, Harry blended in with the Hufflepuffs, planning to break away to find Hermione. To his surprise, Neville trailed after him.
"Hey, Harry, where are you going?" Neville asked, catching up to him.
"Hermione doesn't know about the troll. We must warn her and get her to safety!" he urged. Neville nodded and kept pace.
The directions Susan and Hannah had provided were spot-on. The boys soon reached the bathroom, hearing Hermione's sobs echoing inside.
"Go away! Leave me alone!" she cried from a stall. Harry knocked gently on the door.
"Hermione, you need to come back to the common room. There's an emergency: there's a troll in the dungeons!" he urged. The mention of a male voice startled her, and she slipped into a rule-enforcer mode, gasping, "What are you doing here? You aren't allowed in here!"
"Hermione, please listen! There's a troll! You might be in danger! We need to go!" At last, she opened the stall door, only to freeze and scream. At that moment, Neville tapped on Harry's shoulder, his eyes wide.
"Um… we have a big problem…" he said. The troll's roar filled the room as it spotted the trio, ready to strike. Harry acted instinctively, pushing Neville and Hermione down as the troll's club narrowly missed Hermione and splintered the stall next to her.
Realizing that fighting was futile—no first-year spell could take down such a beast—Harry chose flight over confrontation. But the troll stood between them and the exit. If they were to make it out, he had to draw the beast's attention away from his friends. Could he recall a spell to take its focus?
His mind raced through their spells. Transfiguration and color-changing spells wouldn't suffice, and the levitation charm required concentration he couldn't afford now. The Nox spell had too limited an effect to shield them, leaving him with Lumos. But that would only create a ball of light at the wand's tip, not where he needed it…
"Here goes nothing," he thought, willing a glowing sphere to form behind the troll's left ear. The creature, as dense as expected, turned in confusion, and Harry seized the moment. He yelled, "Run!" as he, Neville, and Hermione bolted toward the door, slipping past the troll just in time.
"Hurry! We can't go to the common room. That troll's probably tracking us!" Harry warned as they raced up a narrow flight of stairs leading to the fourth floor.
"Trolls may be stupid, but they're faster than we can run, and they can pick up our scent," Harry explained as they reached the summit.
"What now?" Hermione asked, struggling to tug open the heavy doors of the north wing with no luck. In a moment of desperation, Harry turned to Neville.
"When I say 'three', levitate its right leg forward and up, and I'll do the left!" he instructed. Neville nodded, apprehensive yet trusting.
"One… Two…" Harry hesitated, watching the troll gain ground. "Three!" they shouted together, casting the levitation charm.
With a resounding crash, the troll tumbled down the steep stairs after losing its footing, its head slamming against the floor with a force that should have incapacitated it.
"It worked," Neville breathed, both amazed and drained.
Suddenly, the commotion attracted the attention of Professor McGonagall, who strode into the corridor, assessing the scene before her.
"What are you doing here? The headmaster ordered everyone to return to the common rooms!" she scolded, her brows furrowing.
"Hermione wasn't at the feast; she didn't know about the troll!" Neville blurted out before Harry could speak. "Harry and I went to warn her. We had to—um—fight it."
McGonagall rubbed her temples, likely fighting off a foreboding headache. "And how on Earth did you manage that?" she asked.
Harry scratched the back of his head, sheepishly explaining, "We dropped it from the stairs with levitation."
She sighed in resignation. "Very well. Potter, Longbottom—ten points from Gryffindor each for risking your safety without informing anyone where you were going. However, ten points will be awarded to Gryffindor for helping your classmate, and an additional thirty points for the sheer absurdity of defeating a mountain troll and surviving."
Stunned, the three first years exchanged incredulous glances, struggling to process the winds of fortune that had just favored their house. "Now, return to the common room before I feel compelled to take those points back for being out during curfew," she ordered.
Fleeing from the scene, they reached the safety of the Gryffindor common room, ringing with muffled chatter and laughter. Hermione turned to the boys who had fought for her life mere hours before, still bewildered at the thought that anyone would risk danger for her.
"Um… not to sound ungrateful or anything, but why did you save me?" she asked, catching Harry's gaze.
"Isn't it just what friends do?" he replied, his sincerity evident. "Plus, aren't you one of us?" His words lit up Hermione's expression, and she nodded, a smile bursting forth as she enveloped both boys in a heartfelt embrace before darting off to the girls' dormitory, leaving Harry and Neville momentarily stunned and blushing in her wake.
/ *** \
Meanwhile, Albus Dumbledore was having a rather tumultuous evening. He had allowed Quirrell to guide the troll into the castle, hoping that one of the 'chosen ones' would act heroically and save that young Muggle-born: Granger. He had never expected both Potter and Longbottom to spring to her aid. And, based on Severus's report, the troll had met its demise due to the impact of its head against the marble floor from their unassuming charms.
"Who is this chosen one?" Dumbledore pondered, savoring a lemon drop. "If they don't surface soon, the world may well fall prey to the darkness Tom seeks to unleash once again."
Dumbledore knew he needed to devise a careful strategy to identify this One, but he understood he must operate from the shadows for his plans to succeed. Unbeknownst to him, the young trio of Gryffindors was just beginning their journey into a deeper magic that would shape the future of the wizarding world.