Of course, despite how much the young Gryffindors disliked Miss Granger, none of them went as far as to bully her.
Although many were tempted. Ideas like spilling ink over her homework, cutting up her robes, or slipping some peculiar potion into her breakfast crossed their minds.
But Harry's attitude toward her remained unchanged.
He still worked on assignments with her, discussed charms, and exchanged thoughts on potion-making.
The others didn't dare act against her. Or rather, they begrudgingly tolerated her presence, treating Hermione as invisible—but only out of respect for Harry.
Hermione felt very wronged.
She wanted to make amends and was determined to win back the forty lost points. In every class, she answered questions with intense effort. Her efforts paid off—except in Snape's class, where she got no such rewards—and she gradually earned points back for Gryffindor.
In the span of a month, while she hadn't quite recouped forty points, she had managed to earn twenty, reducing the gap between Gryffindor and the other houses.
However, her efforts didn't improve her standing in Gryffindor. If anything, they made things worse.
The young lions had made up their minds about her, viewing her through tinted lenses.
To them, she was deliberately trying to show off, a detestable brown-noser who sought to curry favor with the professors while ignoring the house's collective interests.
Harry, meanwhile, was busier than ever.
Professor Flitwick was intrigued by Harry's signs and repeatedly pulled him aside to discuss them, though Harry's attempts at teaching the professor had yet to succeed. Professor Quirrell was unreliable, leaving Harry to study Defense Against the Dark Arts on his own.
Then there was McGonagall's detention. Although it was labeled as such, it mainly involved him helping grade assignments—starting with first-year work and gradually moving to second-year essays—along with some extracurricular guidance.
Gryffindor couldn't afford to fall behind in Transfiguration. It was a matter of tradition.
Harry also frequently visited the greenhouses to assist Professor Sprout with cleaning and organizing, and to collect herbs for his own use.
On weekends, he occasionally stopped by Hagrid's hut, hoping to persuade the gamekeeper to take him into the Forbidden Forest to collect "worthless little trinkets." But Hagrid never agreed.
Finally, after all the hustle and bustle, Harry caught a breather on Thursday, October 31st. The first-years were looking forward to celebrating their first holiday at Hogwarts. Wizards, of course, didn't celebrate Columbus Day—they eagerly awaited Halloween.
The last class before the festivities was Charms.
Following their lessons on Lumos and Alohomora, it was time to tackle their third spell: the Levitation Charm.
The young Gryffindors were thrilled.
They had often seen Harry casually waving his wand to make his bag float behind him, a display of effortless ease that filled them with envy.
However, the Levitation Charm wasn't simple.
It involved eight syllables, far more than the previous spells, and required precise wand movements.
Ron was flailing his arm like a windmill, shouting the incantation as if hoping to intimidate the feather into rising on its own.
But the feather remained defiant.
"Ron, you're doing it wrong!" Hermione snapped, frustration simmering. "The 'g' sound has to be pronounced—clearly and with a proper drawl."
Ron scowled, raising his voice deliberately—perhaps just to annoy her. He'd wanted to yell at her for a while now. "If you're so great, why don't you do it?"
Hermione lifted her wand. "Wingardium Leviosa."
Her wand motion was precise, her tone impeccable. The feather rose smoothly into the air.
Professor Flitwick's eyes lit up as he clapped enthusiastically. "Marvelous! An excellent demonstration of the Levitation Charm! Well done, Miss Granger!"
"Gryffindor earns one point."
But not a single Gryffindor applauded her. They stared coldly.
The Hufflepuffs, more naive, began clapping but quickly quieted when they realized the icy atmosphere.
When class ended, Seamus, under Harry's guidance, finally succeeded on his sixth attempt—though not without blowing up five feathers in the process. His joy was palpable as he cheered loudly... until his feather promptly exploded mid-air.
As for Ron…
Hermione's persistent nagging chipped away at his composure bit by bit. Initially, he managed to get the feather to twitch slightly. But by the end, he had sunk to Seamus's level of performance.
"You could've done it!" Hermione complained as she packed her bag. "You were so close on your fourth try! The feather was moving!"
"But you wouldn't listen to me! You need to enunciate properly. We could've earned another point! Even Seamus got points!"
"Harry is already too brilliant! Most professors are only willing to give back the points Snape deducts from him. Once that's done, they stop awarding him more. We all need to work harder—"
"Enough already!" Ron slammed his hand on the desk, his teeth clenched.
Hermione flinched, dropping her books onto the table with a thud.
"Nobody cares about those points, Miss Granger!" Ron's voice was strained, almost shouting.
"Those points don't matter!
"No matter how many points you earn, people still won't like you! You should really reflect on why no one wants to be your friend.
"This isn't about the points! It's because you're always going on and on about pointless, annoying things!"
Hermione's nose twitched, and her eyes filled with tears. Hugging her bag, she pushed through the crowd and fled the classroom.
Ron opened his mouth, staring after her retreating figure, and hesitated.
"You might've gone a bit too far," Harry said flatly, voicing what Ron likely already knew.
"No, she needed someone to say it! To point out her issues so she can fix them!" Ron retorted, defensive now that the words had been said.
Harry chuckled lightly. "Maybe. But I think you should apologize to her later."
"She's just trying to make amends in her own way."
Ron grumbled, ducking his head. "Fine, maybe you're right."
But Hermione didn't reappear for the next lesson.
She skipped the flying class entirely. By the time it ended and everyone returned to the Great Hall—now adorned for the Halloween feast—she was still nowhere to be found.
"Where's Hermione?" Ron craned his neck, scanning the crowd.
"I need to find her and apologize. I've been working on what to say all class, and it's going to waste if I can't find her."
"Not sure."
"No idea."
Other Gryffindors shrugged.
Lavender piped up, "I saw her in the bathroom earlier when I went during class. She might still be there."
The location was awkward.
Ron fidgeted, unsure if he should go. He downed two pumpkin pasties and was reaching for a third when he turned to Harry. "Should we bring her something to eat? You know, for Hermione?"
Harry, peeling a potato, nodded. He was about to answer when—
Bang!
The doors to the Great Hall burst open. Professor Quirrell stumbled in, tripping over his own feet as he reached Dumbledore's seat.
"There's a troll!" he gasped, trembling. "A mountain troll—escaped the dungeons! I thought you ought to know."
Then, with a dramatic swoon, he collapsed, narrowly missing a bowl of creamy mushroom soup.
Pandemonium erupted.
Dumbledore stood, his wand emitting two bursts of purple fireworks. "Silence!"
"Prefects, escort your housemates back to their dormitories immediately!"
Percy leapt to his feet, raising his voice as high as it would go. "Upper-years, clear the way! First-years, follow me closely—"
"Harry, we should—" Ron grabbed Harry's arm, pulling him toward Percy.
But Harry shook him off. "Go tell a professor! Hermione might run into the troll—she could be in the first-floor bathroom!"
"What? Why would she—" Ron began, confused.
"No time to explain!" Harry gave Ron a shove, stuffed half a potato into his mouth, grabbed the Sorting Hat, and bolted toward the bathroom.
Years of Witcher experience told him this situation was far from normal.
To Be Continued…