After the Christmas and New Year festivities, classes resumed with full focus. All subjects were already set in the first-year students' schedule, and the Quidditch training sessions made Harry the most excited, as they were about to begin, and he was eager to test his skills.
Harry, who had conversed a lot with Rita through letters after their special night, discovered that the vault robbed at Gringotts Bank was indeed related to the package Hagrid had taken.
However, to his bad luck, any information or book about Nicolau Flamel seemed to have been removed from the library, as the specific section about him in the restricted area was entirely empty. Thus, he couldn't find out if Nicolas Flamel really had something to do with Niklaus.
Madam Pince explained that Dumbledore had to take them for an indefinite time, and he couldn't use them at the moment.
- Either it's something really valuable or really dangerous. - Said Ron regarding what was under the trapdoor where the three-headed dog was located.
- Or both. - Added Harry, biting into a fat sandwich that, strangely, no one knew where he got it from, but it was becoming a common action for Potter, under the explanation of being his "nutritious diet."
Neither Neville nor Hermione showed the slightest interest in what was under the feet of the three-headed dog and the trapdoor. Neville was only interested in when he would get close to the three-headed beast again, something only when he was alone with Harry.
It turns out that the seemingly silly boy actually had a very adventurous and brave spirit, always pretending vulnerability, showing his true self only to Harry and a pale, blonde girl he said he had known since birth.
Hermione refused to talk to Ron due to his worsening attitude since before the holidays; it seemed that hanging out with Seamus wasn't good for the boy, as they both had an immense desire to annoy her, making Harry the only one to scold them.
Along with this, many boys and girls didn't want to be friends with her, for being so bossy and a know-it-all.
Ron really wanted to find a way to get back at Draco for what had happened before the holidays, and to his great satisfaction, the opportunity arrived with today's mail.
When the owls invaded the hall as usual, everyone's attention was drawn to a long package carried by six large owls. Harry was as curious as the others to see what was in the package and was surprised when the owls swooped down and dropped it right in front of him, knocking his bacon to the floor.
The Wonderful Bacon Dropped on the Floor by a Delivery, which really irritated him, only to notice that the owl had left a letter on top of the package. With no one moving to touch it, Harry promptly understood that it was for him.
Harry opened the letter first, which was lucky, because it said:
"DO NOT OPEN THE PACKAGE AT THE TABLE.
It contains your new Nimbus 2000, but I don't want everyone to know you got a top-of-the-line broomstick, or everyone will want one.
Mr. Wood will be waiting for you tonight at seven o'clock on the Quidditch field for your first training session.
Professor Minerva McGonagall."
Harry had a hard time hiding his joy when he read the note. Really being at Hogwarts was the best thing that had happened to him; his life was changing drastically, and the feeling of freedom was priceless.
- A Nimbus 2000! - Ron groaned with envy, his face all red, as he pushed forward and opened the package without asking. - I've never even touched one.
Harry hurried out of the hall; luckily the redhead hadn't drawn attention. Harry wanted to unwrap the broom alone before the first class, but in the middle of the entrance hall, he found his way blocked by Crabbe and Goyle.
Harry smiled defiantly at these two chubby ones, but they were more occupied trying to intimidate Ron, who was holding the package.
Draco took the package from Ron, felt it, and quickly said:
- It's a broom. - He said, throwing it back to Ron with a look of envy and spite on his face. - You're in trouble this time, Potter. First years aren't allowed broomsticks. - He said, where he soon froze from head to toe when he felt Harry's hand firmly grip his shoulder, with a sinister look on Potter's face.
- One more word and I'll mess up that cow-licked hair of yours. - Harry warned.
- It's not just any old broomstick, idiot! It's a Nimbus 2000. What did you say you have at home, Draco, a Comet 260? - Ron laughed at Harry, who ignored him. - The Comet looks impressive but doesn't have the class of the Nimbus.
- What do you know about it, Weasley? You couldn't even buy half the handle. Maybe you and your brothers have to save up to buy straw by straw.
Before Ron could respond to Draco, Professor Flitwick appeared beside Draco, with Harry looking at him curiously.
- You're not fighting, boys, I hope. - Said Flitwick in a squeaky voice, laughing when Harry rolled his eyes in annoyance at how this group of boys seemed to irritate him like rats.
- Potter got a broomstick, Professor. - Draco said quickly.
- I know! - Replied Professor Flitwick, flashing a big smile at Harry. - Professor Minerva told me about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?"
- A Nimbus 2000, Professor. - Harry informed, struggling not to laugh at the horrified expression on Draco's face. - And to tell the truth, it was thanks to Draco here that I got the broomstick... thank you very much. You don't know how good it did me. - He added, referring to the time Malfoy tried to get him in trouble, but in the end, the situation turned out differently.
Harry and Ron climbed the stairs, stifling their laughter at Draco's visible anger and confusion.
- It's true… - Said Harry, bursting into laughter as they reached the top of the marble staircase. - If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall, I wouldn't be on the team."
- So I suppose you think you earned a reward for breaking the rules? - Came a stern voice from behind them. Hermione was climbing the stairs with determined steps, looking disapprovingly at the package in Harry's hands.
- I thought you weren't talking to us. - Harry commented with a chuckle at the girl's puffed-up stance.
- I'm not talking to him! - She said, pointing accusingly at Ron.
- And keep not talking. - Ron said. - It's doing us so much good. - He added with an eye roll from Potter.
- Again tonight at the library? - Harry inquired about the self-study and spellcasting sessions he'd been having with the girl, mainly how he took her under his wing and now dragged her every night to the Restricted Section.
Despite most of the time they just debated everything while Harry did his job organizing the library, with Madam Pince's permission to bring a friend, as staying alone there was very boring.
- Yes, bring that book. The schedule needs to be exact. - She said, with Harry remembering the day he fled the restricted session taking a certain interesting book with him. - See you never. - Hermione finally said to Weasley, walking away with her nose in the air.
Harry had a hard time concentrating on his classes that day. His thoughts kept drifting to the dormitory where he had stored the broomstick in his Muggle-proof suitcase.
He only had a moment of peace when he started taking care of all the beasts in the habitat inside the suitcase. He was getting the hang of it completely, and each creature had a kind of affection for Potter, something that prevented them from being hostile, making him more beloved by all.
Mainly his phoenix, which, being a fledgling, was extremely needy for attention, and Harry sought to provide it until late at night, with his owl acting more like a mother in the relationship.
[ ... ]
When it was almost seven in the evening, Harry left the castle with Madam Pince's consent, who allowed him to have a day off, and headed to the Quidditch field at dusk. There were hundreds of seats in a grandstand around the field, so the spectators could see what was happening from above. At each end of the field, there were three golden hoops on poles, reminding Harry of the plastic straws Muggle children used to blow soap bubbles, only they were over 15 meters tall.
Too eager to wait for Wood without flying, Harry mounted his broomstick and gave a push. The sensation of it was what he loved most, especially when he dove swiftly, risking a collision with the ground, only to skillfully dodge everything.
The adrenaline was the best, perhaps even an addiction, as he increased the height of his flights more and more each day.
The Nimbus 2000 went wherever he wanted at the slightest touch, and the difference from common broomsticks was surreal...
- Hey, Potter, come down! - Oliver Wood arrived after half an hour of Potter's acrobatics, an act that attracted a lot of attention from nearby students. The older boy carried a large wooden box under his arm, with Harry finally landing beside him, greatly curious about what was inside.
- Very good. - Commented Oliver, his eyes shining like a child seeing candy, knowing that the team's situation would change with Harry by his side. - I see what Professor McGonagall meant... You really have a natural talent. Tonight, I'll just teach you the rules of the game; after that, you'll join the team practice three times a week. - He opened the box, revealing four balls of different sizes. - Alright. - Said Oliver, about to start, only to notice the katana sheathed at the younger boy's waist. - ...I find it interesting someone uses katanas in the present time..., but you don't intend to use it in the game, right?
- Wizards use wands... I feel safer with Rhitta. - Harry calmly explained.
- Rhitta? - He said, laughing.
- Yes! A combat blade adored by the sun, named after a lady. - Harry explained, pretending a serious face. - Or that's what the strange beggar told me a few years ago when I bought it for a bargain and a few liters of booze. - Harry said, with amusement. - No matter, I think I just need to find a worthy name for it.
- Alright... as long as you don't cut yourself in half with it during the game. That's fine by me. - Oliver said, finishing his laugh. - Anyway, Quidditch is very easy to understand, even though it's not easy to play. There are seven players on each side. Three of them are Chasers.
- Three Chasers. - Harry repeated, as Oliver picked up a very red ball about the size of a soccer ball.
- This ball is called the Quaffle. - Oliver explained. -The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try to get it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points every time the Quaffle passes through one of the hoops. Are you following me?
- The Chasers throw the Quaffle through the hoops to score points. - Harry repeated. - So it's like basketball with six hoops instead of two, and they're vertical instead of horizontal, right?
- What's basketball? - Asked Oliver, with a curious glint in his eyes.
- Never mind... I'll explain later. - Harry responded immediately.
- Now, there's another player on each side who is called the Keeper. I am Gryffindor's Keeper. I have to fly around the hoops to stop the other team from scoring points. Do you know any of the other houses' Keepers?
- Three Chasers, one Keeper. - Said Harry, determined to memorize everything. - And they play with a Quaffle, okay, got it. And I think I only know Milo Bletchley from Slytherin. - Harry said, to Oliver's surprise, who didn't understand the connection between them, mainly due to their character differences. - Don't look at me like that, I was with his girlfriend this Christmas while Percy was with his sister, it almost got messy but here we are. - Harry said, making Oliver choke in surprise. - And what are these for? - He pointed at the remaining balls in the box.
- I'll show you now. Hold this. - He handed Harry a small bat, somewhat like a baseball bat, still looking at the new team member with respect. - I'll show you what the Bludgers do. And as you might have guessed... these are the Bludgers. - He showed Harry two identical black balls, slightly smaller than the red Quaffle. Harry noticed that they seemed to be struggling to break free from the chains that held them in the box.
- Stay back! - Oliver warned Harry. He bent down and released one of the Bludgers. Immediately, the black ball shot upwards, then started straight for Harry's face. Harry swung at it with the bat to stop it from breaking his nose and sent it zigzagging away, where it finally struck a statue with two swords in hand. - Hmm... you'd make a good Beater. - He said before the ball came zooming back toward them. It then hurled itself at Oliver, who dived on top of it and managed to pin it to the ground.
- See? - Oliver panted, forcing the unruly Bludger back into the box and strapping it down. - Bludgers fly around trying to knock players off their brooms. That's why there are two Beaters on each team. The Weasley twins are ours. Their job is to protect the team from the Bludgers and try to knock them toward the other team. So, do you think you've got all that?"
- Three Chasers try to score with the Quaffle, the Keeper guards the goalposts, and the Beaters keep the Bludgers away from their team and send them toward the opposition. - Harry repeated like a recorder.
- Very good. - Oliver said, smiling.
- Um... have the Bludgers ever killed anyone? - Harry asked, hoping to sound casual.
- Never at Hogwarts. We've had a few broken jaws, but nothing more serious. Now, the last member of the team is you... You're the most important player, the Seeker.
- I don't have to worry about the Quaffle or the Bludgers.
- Unless they crack my head open. - Harry said sarcastically.
- Don't worry, the Weasleys are Bludger stoppers, I mean, they seem like human Bludgers themselves. - Oliver said, reaching into the crate and taking out the fourth and last ball. Compared to the Quaffle and the Bludgers, this one was tiny, about the size of a walnut. It was made of polished gold and had fluttering silver wings. - This is the Golden Snitch, and it's the most important ball of all. It's very hard to catch because it's extremely fast and difficult to see.
- The Seekers' job is to catch it. They have to weave between the Chasers, Beaters, Bludgers, and the Quaffle to catch it before the other team's Seeker, because the Seeker who catches the Snitch earns their team an extra one hundred and fifty points, which pretty much guarantees victory. That's why Seekers get fouled so much.
A game of Quidditch only ends when the Snitch is caught, which can take forever. I think the record is three months and they had to bring in substitutes so the players could get some sleep. - Explained Oliver with a passion in his voice, showing that he really liked explaining and teaching about the sport. - Any questions? - Harry shook his head in negation. He understood very well what he had to do. Doing it would be the problem.
- We won't practice with the Snitch. - Said Oliver, carefully putting it back in the box. - It's too dark and we might lose it. Let's practice with other balls."
And he took a bag of ordinary golf balls out of his pocket, and a few minutes later, he and Harry were in the air, Oliver throwing the balls with all his strength in all directions and Harry catching them.
Harry didn't miss a single one, and Oliver was thrilled with the team's new hope. Half an hour passed, night fell, and they couldn't continue.
However, it was clear that Potter was a natural, and Oliver sighed in relief at having such a member on the team.
- That Quidditch cup will have our name on it this year. - Said Harry's new friend, happy as they returned tired to the Gryffindor common room. - I wouldn't be surprised if you did better than Charlie, and he could have played for England if he hadn't gone off to chase dragons. But now tell me all about this Basketball. - Oliver said, his eyes shining with euphoria and curiosity about No-mag society's sports.
- Alright, sweetie. - Harry gave a sarcastic laugh, patting the excited boy on the back. - ...but let me take a bath first! We'll talk. - Harry said, heading to his room, little knowing that this interaction with Oliver, the news of his adventures with Percy, and his whole way of dealing with older students differently than with younger ones, would give him a new fame at Hogwarts, a fame hidden by rumors, but that would bring him many relationships that the Hogwarts public and even the magical society did not embrace as No-mags did.
[ ... ]
Perhaps it was because he was now very busy with Quidditch practice, three nights a week in addition to homework, but Harry couldn't believe when he realized that he had already been at Hogwarts for months. The castle felt more like home than his aunt's house on Privet Drive. Classes were also becoming more interesting each day, now that he had mastered the basics.
After many theoretical lessons on spells, Harry looked forward to the practical lesson when Professor Flitwick announced in Charms class that, in his opinion, the students were ready to start making objects fly.
However, Harry already knew how to do this, which was a bit disappointing since he had already mastered it, but he didn't show it because he liked the professor very much.
If there was a great person to talk to, it was that short man, especially when he was under the high effect of butterbeer.
Professor Flitwick divided the class into pairs to practice. Harry's partner was Neville, which was a relief, because Harry had taught the boy how to perform such magic when he asked.
Ron had to work with Hermione. It was hard to say whether Ron or Hermione was more annoyed about it.
- Now, don't forget that wrist movement we practiced! - Professor Flitwick squeaked, as always perched on top of a stack of books. - Swish in a U shape, and flick down in a straight line, remember, swish and flick. And say the magic words correctly, it's very important and with conviction too.
Harry and Neville, who were watching Ron and Hermione argue, promptly heard:
- Wingardium... leviosÁ!!! - Ron ordered, waving his long arms like windmill blades.
- You're saying it wrong! - Harry heard Hermione correct, annoyed. - It's LeviOsa, not LeviosÁ."
- You do it, then, if you're so smart. - Retorted Ron.
Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her robes, swished her wand in a U shape, finishing with a vertical stroke, and said with conviction:
- Wingardium Leviosa. - With that, the feather rose from the table and hovered more than a meter above their heads.
- Oh, well done! - Professor Flitwick exclaimed, clapping. - Everyone, look here, Miss Granger has done it! - This was also achieved by Neville, who already knew the spell, and Harry, who was responsible for teaching him, resulting in three Gryffindor students and five Ravenclaw students succeeding by the end of the class.
[ ... ]
Ron was in a foul mood when the class ended.
- No wonder no one can stand her! - Ron said to Seamus as they tried to get to the corridor. - Frankly, she's a nightmare. - Someone bumped into the redhead as they passed by. It was Hermione.
Harry saw her face briefly and was shocked to see that she was crying.
Surely Ron was pushing the limits, and it was irritating him in the same way that Malfoy had been. Sometimes Ron seemed bearable in class, but in the presence of others, he completely messed up.
And this wasn't Potter's fault; he had given Malfoy a chance, they worked well in Snape's class, but being next to Ron, Draco treated him ridiculously.
Now Ron, who was getting the chance to be a good friend, aimed to act so immaturely. If he continued to treat the girl like this, it would really be just another failed friendship, and Harry saw no problem with that happening—better to be alone than in bad company.
- I think she heard what you said. - Harry censured Ron.
- So what! - Ron retorted, but with a sharp look from Potter, he seemed a bit embarrassed. - She must have noticed she has no friends.
- I think you're the one who should notice... because you're about to lose one. - Harry said seriously, walking away from his classmates. Hanging out with the kids was already tiring him, and he often preferred spending time with sixth and seventh-year students, as he had been doing with his new goth friend and her wild adventures.
[ ... ]
Hermione didn't show up for the next class, and no one saw her all afternoon.
When heading down to the Great Hall for dinner, Harry heard Parvati telling her friend Lavender that Hermione had been crying in the girls' bathroom and wanted to be left alone.
Ron felt even more embarrassed hearing this, but the next moment they entered the Great Hall, where the feast made him forget any thoughts about her.
Dinner was well enjoyed, especially when Madam Pince excused him from work to dine with her. Many saw him cheerfully interacting with the woman, who seemed much prettier than she appeared.
To everyone, she was just a librarian who scared people with her feather duster and exotic witch attire, but here, wearing a No-mag social outfit and smiling, they certainly saw that Harry had something special with the friendships he attracted.
[ ... ]
Harry was helping himself to a jacket potato when Professor Quirrell came running into the hall, his turban askew on his head and terror etched on his face:
- Troll... in the dungeons... Troll... thought you ought to know. Everyone watched as he staggered up to Dumbledore's chair, leaned on the table, and then collapsed on the floor in a faint.
There was an uproar. It took a great shout from Dumbledore for people to quiet down:
- Prefects! - He said in a grave and booming voice. - Lead your houses back to the dormitories, immediately!
- Well, I suppose our meeting is over, Mr. Potter. - Madam Pince said with a wink. - I'll be accompanying the teachers, but thank you for the conversation, it's been a while since I've talked so much with someone. - She finished with a kiss on his cheek before walking away smiling, while Harry pretended to have a lovestruck expression, drawing laughter from Minerva, Septima, Aurora, Pomona, Sibyl, and Poppy.
[ ... ]
Outside the hall, there was a commotion as students divided to their respective prefects. Harry noticed a frightened look on Draco, who was being escorted by his two friends, and he couldn't help but think how ridiculous it was to send Slytherin students to the dungeons when the Troll was there, unless of course the true entrance to the Slytherin common room wasn't there.
- Follow me! Stay together, first-year students! You don't need to be afraid of the troll if you follow my orders! Now stay right behind me. Make way for the first-year students! - Percy said in order, leading the students out of the hall. - Excuse me, I'm Head Boy! - Percy said excitedly and in order, proud of being a prefect.
- How could a troll get in? - Ron asked as they climbed the stairs.
- Maybe Peeves let it in to play a trick. - Harry said, leaving nothing out. And the Poltergeist was no angel to be trusted.
They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. As they struggled to get through a bunch of Hufflepuff students, Harry suddenly stopped abruptly with a thought.
Under Ron's full attention, Harry glanced at Percy, who was busy, and then ducked, mingling with the Hufflepuffs heading in the opposite direction, slipping through a deserted part of the corridor and running to the girls' bathroom. He had just turned a corner when he heard hurried footsteps behind him.
- Harry! - Ron hissed, pulling Harry behind a large stone griffin. Harry barely noticed the redhead following him, worried that something might happen to his friend. Peeking around, they saw Snape. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from sight. - What is he doing? - Ron whispered. - Why isn't he down there with the other teachers?
- Don't ask me. - Harry muttered, not caring much. As quietly as possible, they sneaked down the corridor Snape had run through and where Harry was headed.
- He's going to the third floor. - Said Ron, but Harry raised his hand for silence, as he seemed to be sensing something in the environment that the younger boy couldn't perceive. - Do you smell that?"
Harry sniffed, and a horrible stench invaded his nostrils, a mixture of old socks and a public toilet that seemed never to be cleaned.
Then they heard a low grunt and the footsteps of giant feet. Ron pointed to the end of the corridor on the left, where something huge was coming toward them. They crouched in the dark and tried to see what it was when the thing passed by a patch of moonlight.
It was a terrifying sight. Nearly four meters tall, with gray skin, a body full of lumps like a boulder, and a tiny head on top.
It had short legs, as thick as tree trunks, and flat, calloused feet. It held a huge wooden club, which it dragged on the ground because its arms were incredibly long.
The troll stopped near a door and peeked inside.
It waggled its long ears, trying to make its tiny head think, then slowly entered the room.
- The key's in the door. - Ron quickly murmured. - Let's lock it in. - He continued his idea alone, running and locking the door.
Returning quickly, Harry thought something was wrong. With Ron flushed with victory, he started running back down the corridor. But as he passed Harry, who had also turned around, he heard something that made his heart skip a beat. A scream coming from the room they had just locked.
It was filled with desperation, fear, and a euphoria in a scream pleading for help from anyone who could hear.
Harry barely knew what happened. One moment he was looking at the locked door, his pupils glowing emerald green, thinking of only one person who was there, and the next he was practically flying against the door that seemed to self-destruct in his vision.
Hermione was cowering against the opposite wall, looking as if she was about to faint. The troll was advancing on her, knocking over the sinks attached to the wall in its path.
Before Harry could comprehend what was happening, seeing everything from a higher vantage point than the troll, he noticed a large hemorrhage coming toward him and around him.
The walls of the girls' bathroom tower were destroyed as if an explosion had occurred there, the windows shattered in shock to everyone, only for Harry to notice now that he had his arms around the frightened girl, her breathing labored. But his gaze remained sharp the entire time, as if he wouldn't leave her side until she was safe.
Her scream triggered a memory of his long traumatic years, his eyes darkening demonically with bright emerald pupils. In his case, there was no one to rescue him, and he wouldn't let the girl suffer the same.
Even if he had to bring down this castle from top to bottom, just as he had just completely destroyed the upper structure of the girls' bathroom tower.
As this happened, he finally saw Ron enter the bathroom. Everything had happened very quickly and was incomprehensible.
It was Ron who spoke first:
- It's... dead... HOW!? - Ron asked, terrified by all the destruction and Harry's demonic look, who was breathing heavily and looked more like a wild beast trying to protect its cub.
Harry didn't know what to say. What madness had just happened? What killed the troll so quickly? Why did it seem like he was flying? Why was Hermione looking at him as if he was something out of this world?
And why did she seem to cling so securely to him, as if it was the first time she felt such a sense of male security?
Suddenly, the sound of slamming doors, falling, and heavy footsteps made the three raise their heads. They hadn't realized the commotion they had caused, but surely someone downstairs had heard all the destruction. A moment later, Professor Minerva entered the bathroom, followed closely by Filch, Madam Pince, and Quirrell, who brought up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a terrified whimper, and sat quickly on a toilet, clutching his chest.
Filch bent over the troll, trying to understand who among them had such power to do this. Professor Minerva stared at Harry fixedly. Harry had never seen her so angry. Her lips were white, and she seemed to be trying to understand what caused all this while analyzing him in a mix of shock and disbelief.
Little did he know that Minerva was the only one who understood where these destructions derived from, and her angry state was more about identifying the fact that Harry had a horrible gash on his forehead, but it was healing at a totally abnormal level without his awareness, something that only accidental magic could do. For it to be at this level, her mind certainly wandered to something, which she would surely resolve quickly with Albus.
- What were you thinking? - Professor Minerva asked, with suppressed fury in her voice. Harry looked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in hand as if he could have done something. - You were lucky not to have been killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory? - Hermione's trembling made Harry ignore the professor completely and hug the little girl even more. There was definitely something wrong there; she was scared, yes, but there was something more to her reaction to Minerva's sharp voice.
Filch shot Harry a quick, penetrating look. Harry looked at the ground, not out of fear but trying to understand what had happened to his body, especially when he saw his eyes reflected in the water puddle on the floor—demonic and dark eyes, with bright emerald pupils.
He knew something had kind of activated when he heard Hermione's scream, the same repressed despair from his past. He wished Ron would lower his wand, as his magic was really screaming for a threat, and if it continued, he himself would tear the child's arm off, even though his reasonable mind said the redhead was also scared. However, to his senses, a weapon was a weapon, regardless of whose hands it was in.
- Please, Professor McGonagall, they came to look for me. - Hermione said, hugging Harry even more and feeling the intoxicating and secure sensation that his magic seemed to radiate through the girl's body.
- Miss Granger! - Minerva demanded immediate explanations in her voice.
Hermione managed to speak finally with slightly more controlled breathing and quickly explained:
- I went looking for the troll because I thought I could handle it alone. You know, I've read all about trolls. - Ron dropped his wand. Hermione Granger, lying blatantly to a teacher? - If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now."
- Harry, who practically understood where the girl was going, quietly felt a wand being placed secretly in his hand.
- We didn't have time to call anyone. The troll was about to finish me off when they arrived, but Harry smashed its head with my wand. - Harry and Ron looked at the girl, pretending the story wasn't news to them. However, the professor seemed not to believe it.
- If you check my wand, you'll see that the last spell used was Bombarda. - Hermione continued, pulling the sleeve of Harry's robe and taking back her wand.
Clearly, she knew how to lie well, but Harry didn't care about that; he just wanted to understand where so much power came from to do that, as he knew it came from him and felt apprehensive about what all this would cause.
- Well... in that case. - Said Professor Minerva, staring at the three of them. - Miss Granger, how foolish, how could you think of facing a mountain troll alone? - Hermione lowered her head. Harry was speechless. Hermione was the last person in the world to disobey the rules, and there she was, pretending she had disobeyed, just to get him out of trouble.
- Hermione Granger, Gryffindor will lose twenty-five points for this. - Said Professor Minerva. - I am very disappointed. If you are not hurt, you should go back to the Gryffindor Tower."
As the trio quickly left the bathroom, they heard her finally say:
- And Gryffindor will gain fifty points for a first-year student using advanced magic... Thus adding fifty points to all houses. - She finished with a smile. - Professor Dumbledore will be informed... You may go.
They hurried out of the bathroom, but not before passing Snape, who was heading straight for the bathroom, limping slightly with a large dog bite on his right leg.
They said nothing until they climbed two floors. It was a relief to get away from the troll's stench, not to mention the mess.
- We should have gotten a hundred points. - Ron grumbled. - Congratulations, Harry, for learning Bombarda.
Harry couldn't tell if Weasley was blind, stupid, or if he had moved very fast, but did the boy really not see that such destruction occurred only when he got to the place?
- I... - Harry was about to explain, but a sharp pain in his back made him change his expression.
There was a large wound there, making Harry understand well that it must have been a splinter from some door or windowpane that had cut him.
The pain was very annoying, and Hermione immediately pulled him without noticing the wound, heading towards the portrait of the Fat Lady.
- Pig snout! - She said, and they entered, only for Harry to feel his vision blur.
The common room was full and noisy. Everyone was having dinner sent there. Hermione, who was next to Harry, promptly looked at him in an awkward silence.
Ron, who was embarrassed, quickly apologized and went to eat with the others, while Harry asked Hermione to accompany him to the dormitory, under the gaze of many students who didn't know why Potter had just arrived in that state, as if he had fought a war.
[ … ]
Harry quickly took off his shirt as he headed straight to the bathroom to see what was bothering his back so much. Only then did he make a more pained expression than he had before.
- Damn! - Harry muttered in pain as he saw a shard of glass there, only to pull it out and let out a short scream that he held back to avoid attracting everyone's attention.
Taking his wand, Harry promptly pointed it at his back, or at least as close as he could, and said:
- Vulnera... Sanentur. - He conjured, with a strong tingling and burning sensation as the wound closed rapidly and the blood on his clothes receded back inside.
He was on his knees on the bathroom floor, and Hermione didn't know what to say until now.
- Whatever you saw! Explain everything to me and only to me... don't expose it to anyone. Especially... nothing to Dumbledore. - Harry ordered seriously, his eyes glowing an intense emerald green that scared the girl.
Such a look had only appeared on New Year's Eve with Rita Skeeter, but now they practically vibrated with a confused and serious feeling about what had happened in the troll's death.
Only for him to finally hear:
- A-a Obscurial... - That's what came out of Hermione's mouth, and Harry barely understood.
But it certainly had to do with the fact that he felt like he was practically flying and above the troll before its head exploded along with the walls and windows of the girls' bathroom.
And with that, we come to the end of the twelfth chapter of Changed Prophecy.
I hope everyone is enjoying it, and don't forget to comment.
Yes! Harry is an Obscurial, which has a lot to do with the fact that he suffered abuse in the past. In common terms, he could never use the powers of an Obscurial, like in the movies and books.
However, here Voldemort's magic and how it is spread throughout his body tends to cause significant changes in him, and this can be very concerning. Because Harry doesn't control such power, and he could very well destroy Hogwarts in a total loss of control.
As for Hermione, there are certain reasons for her to react in certain ways to certain looks and tones of voice, which will be better explored in the future.
Anyway, I really hope you are enjoying it, and I'll be waiting for everyone in the comments section. XD