6. Halloween
Hope rose early, bypassing breakfast, and made her way to the library. There, she nestled among a pile of books and began studying revealing and concealing charms.
Suddenly, a tap on her shoulder disrupted her intense focus. Looking up, she beamed at the figure before her.
"Cedric!" she exclaimed, only to be promptly shushed by Madam Pince, the librarian.
"Long time no see, Lupin! What brings you here during breakfast?" Cedric inquired, glancing down at the array of books strewn across the table.
"Studying," Hope replied, his gaze lingering on the charms books she had amassed.
"This early? Have you even started practical work?" he questioned with a raised brow, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
"No, I'm trying to get ahead," she responded calmly, resting her head on her hand and shielding the books from view with her elbow. "And what about you? What brings you here so early?"
"Ancient Runes is killing me." Cedric sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly.
"Ah, should've taken Divination," Hope teased, arching an eyebrow.
"I am," Cedric grumbled.
"Don't recommend that either, huh?" She asked.
Cedric shook his head. "At least in Ancient Runes, you actually learn something. Divination is basically useless unless you're an actual Seer... Besides, I'm getting quite sick of Trelawney's predictions."
"Oh yeah? What has she predicted?" Hope questioned.
"Let's see, apparently something bad is to happen on Christmas, she predicted I would break a cup..." He listed.
"Did you?" Hope interrupted.
"One of the Weasleys tripped me. It doesn't count. And... here's the real kicker: she's seen an omen of my death," Cedric explained.
Hope's expression shifted to concern at the mention of a death omen. Cedric reassured her quickly.
"Don't worry, she predicts a student's death every year," he reassured her hastily, sensing her worry. "Anyway, better get to it. Good luck with your studies."
He bid her farewell as she returned to her books.
After leaving the library, Hope caught up to Harry and Ron as they ascended the stairs, lugging a large box. Both were stifling their laughter while Malfoy stormed off, clearly flustered. As she approached the boys, Hope quirked a brow at Malfoy's retreating figure and the box in their hands.
"What have I missed?" she questioned.
"Hope, you chose the worst time to study! McGonagall got Harry a Nimbus 2000!" Ron exclaimed, unable to contain his excitement.
"No way!" Hope's eyes widened with delight as Harry confirmed Ron's statement with a bright nod.
"Come on, then, you two! I want to see it!" Hope beamed, gesturing for them all to head to the common room.
"So, I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" came an angry voice from just behind them.
Hermione was stomping up the stairs, casting a disapproving gaze at the package in Harry's hand. Hope sighed annoyedly. She genuinely liked Hermione and considered the bushy-haired girl a friend, holding her in high regard. However, she couldn't deny that Hermione could be incredibly annoying with her insistence on rule-following. Hope had to admit that Hermione ignoring the boys for a week had been a welcome break from having to mediate between the three.
"I thought you weren't speaking to us?" Harry responded.
"Yes, don't stop now, it's doing us so much good." Ron added
Hermione marched away with her nose in the air.
"You could be a little nicer," Hope mumbled, directing her attention to the boys, specifically Ron.
"She's the one that has to stick her bloody nose in everything," Ron pointed out.
"She means well," Hope defended.
"Yeah, funny way of showing it," Ron argued.
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Before she realized it, two months had flown by at Hogwarts, and each passing day brought Hope a greater sense of confidence in her surroundings. With every step, she felt more grounded, as if the castle itself was embracing her presence. Her lessons, too, were growing increasingly fascinating now that she had a firm grasp of the fundamentals.
On Halloween morning, the enchanting aroma of baking pumpkin greeted them as they woke, wafting through the Hogwarts corridors. Adding to the excitement, Professor Flitwick delivered the delightful news in Charms class that they were ready to make objects fly—a skill they had all eagerly anticipated since witnessing Neville's toad zoom around the classroom.
Hope, in particular, brimmed with excitement at the prospect of practical spellwork. For her, it meant one step closer to initiating the prank she had planned with the twins on Professor Snape. Professor Flitwick paired up the class for practice, assigning Harry with Seamus Finnigan and Hope with Neville. Despite Neville's occasional clumsiness and struggles with spellwork, Hope enjoyed his company and willingly assisted him.
Ron, on the other hand, found himself partnered with Hermione Granger, and it was challenging to determine who was more disgruntled about it—Ron or Hermione. The tension between them lingered, and Hermione had not spoken to either of them since the day Harry's broomstick had arrived.
"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" Professor Flitwick squeaked, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too—never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."
It was very difficult. Harry and Seamus swished and flicked, but the feather they were supposed to be sending skyward just lay on the desktop. Seamus got so impatient that he prodded it with his wand and set fire to it—Harry had to put it out with his hat.
Hope and Neville were also having trouble. After a few tries, Hope was able to make the feather float just a few inches above the desk. Smiling to herself, she turned her attention to Neville, grabbing the wrist that held his wand. She went through the motions. "Swish and flick," she instructed, trying to help him.
Ron, at the next table, wasn't having much more luck.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" he shouted, waving wand aggressively at the feather.
"You're saying it wrong," Hermione snapped. "It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."
"You do it, then, if you're so clever," Ron snapped.
Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her gown, "Wingardium Leviosa!" she said with the flick of her wand.
Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.
"Oh, well done!" Professor Flitwick, complimented clapping. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"
Ron was in a very bad mood by the end of class.
"It's no wonder no one can stand her," he said to Harry.
Hope glared at the ginger boy. "Ron," she snapped angrily as they pushed their way into the crowded corridor.
"She's a nightmare, honestly," Ron continued.
Someone knocked into Harry as they hurried past him. It was Hermione. Hope caught a glimpse of her face—and was startled to see that she was in tears.
"I think she heard you," Harry muttered.
"So?" Ron said, but he looked a bit uncomfortable. "She must've noticed she's got no friends."
"You can be a real git sometimes, Ron," Hope spat, shoving past the two boys and chasing after the bushy-haired girl. "Hermione!" she called, pushing through the mass of students.
Hope huffed, losing sight of the girl. She continued looking and finally found her in the nearest bathroom. Walking in, she heard soft cries and whimpers from behind one of the stalls.
"Hermione, are you alright?" she called out gently, cursing herself in her head. Clearly, Hermione wasn't alright.
"I'm fine, you can go, Hope," Hermione replied, trying her best to muffle her cries.
Hope knew she was lying. She pushed the stall door open, which Hermione had failed to lock. She looked down and saw Hermione curled up, knees to her chest, back against the stall wall. Hermione turned her head to avoid eye contact. Hope sat down cross-legged across from her, leaning against the opposite stall side.
"Ron's just jealous; you shouldn't take anything he says to heart," Hope said softly.
"He's not wrong," Hermione muttered between sniffles.
"What do you mean? Of course, he's wrong," Hope insisted.
"Everyone feels the same way Ron does. They all think I'm an exasperating know-it-all. That's why no one likes me," Hermione cried out. "I... I don't mean to be annoying... I just... magic is new to me... there are loads of wizards that have grown up with it like you, Ron, Malfoy. I wanted to be on par with all of you when I got to Hogwarts, so I studied anything I could get my hands on... I understand how I can come off at times but... well... is it so horrible that I want to do well... that I want Gryffindor to do well... I'm trying my best."
Hope's heart broke seeing Hermione's bloodshot, puffy eyes and tear-streaked face.
"You're wrong," Hope said softly.
Hermione scrunched her brows. "What?"
"Before you said no one likes you, you're wrong. I like you. I mean, how could I not, Hermione? You're incredible. I grew up with magic, and you're not just on par; you're light-years ahead of me and basically everyone else in our year, pure-blood or Muggle-born. You're probably the brightest witch that's stepped foot in Hogwarts in years. And years from now, you'll probably end up on a Chocolate Frog card for coming up with some brilliant new spell or potion. And I'm really Lucky that I'll get to say I was friends with the great Hermione Granger?"
Hope grabbed the crying girl's hand and squeezed it.
Hermione's lip trembled. "You really mean that?"
"Every word," Hope nodded.
Hermione flung herself across the floor, hugging Hope tightly. "I'm really glad you're my friend, Hope."
Hope hugged her back. "Me too, Mione."
Hermione leaned back onto the stall wall, her tears finally subsiding. "I don't think I'm ready to go out there yet."
"That's okay," Hope said.
"Oh, Hope, you don't have to stay here with me; you'll miss the Halloween feast." Hermiome cried, guiltily.
"That's okay," Hope assured.
"Hope, you've been looking forward to it," Hermione added.
"You're more important," Hope nodded, firmly.
Hermione smiled. "Hope Lupin, from this day forward, I swear I will be the best friend I can be," she said, holding out her pinky finger.
Hope raised her brows, looking at her hand questioningly. "Oh," Hermione said, "you don't have pinky promises here?"
Hope shook her head. "No, we have the Unbreakable Vow, though I'm assuming Muggles don't die if they break a pinky promise?"
Hermione blinked. "Oh, uh, no, no one dies." She replied awkwardly before taking Hope's pinky and looping it with her own. "Here, we both just take our pinkies, hook them together, and make a promise from the heart," Hermione explained. "I, Hermione Granger, promise I will always be there for and look out for you, Hope Lupin."
Hope smiled. "And I, Hope Lupin, promise I will always be there for and look out for you, Hermione Granger."
The girls grinned at each other brightly, their friendship now strengthened even more. They spent the rest of the afternoon in the bathroom talking. They were alone for most of it, though Parvati had popped in earlier to check on Hermione and see if she was okay. After what felt like hours, the girls stood up, deciding it was time to leave the bathroom.
"You've probably missed dinner. Sorry about that," Hermione apologized.
"I've told you it's fine," Hope replied, rolling her eyes. But her brows scrunched in confusion when she noticed Hermione's face turn ghostly white as she stared ahead. Just as Hope was about to ask what was wrong, she heard a loud grunt.
Slowly, she turned—and her breath caught in her throat. A mountain troll stood in the doorway. It had to be at least twelve feet tall, its skin a dull, granite gray. Its great, lumpy body was like a boulder, with a small bald head perched on top like a coconut. Its short legs were thick as tree trunks, with flat, horny feet. And the smell—it was horrid. Hope stared at the troll, wide-eyed, as it slowly made its way toward them, dragging a massive wooden club at its side.
The color drained from Hope's face. She moved to stand in front of Hermione and began backing away slowly. The troll started to raise its club. Hope knew she should move, should do something, but all she could do was stare in frozen terror.
Before it could strike, Hermione grabbed her arm and yanked her into the stall they had been in earlier, slamming the door shut just as the troll's club came crashing down onto the floor. The two girls dove to the ground, screaming, covering their heads as debris from the stall rained down on them. Trembling, they clung to each other as the troll advanced, knocking the sinks off the walls as it went.
The sound of hurried footsteps made Hope look up, seeing Harry and Ron running in.
"Confuse it!" Harry shouted desperately to Ron. Seizing a tap, he threw it as hard as he could against the wall.
The troll halted just a few feet from Hermione and Hope. Hope released the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. The troll lumbered around, blinking stupidly, searching for the source of the noise. Its mean little eyes landed on Harry. It hesitated, then started toward him, raising its club.
"Oy, pea-brain!" Ron yelled from the other side of the chamber, throwing a metal pipe at it. The troll barely noticed the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the shout and paused again, turning its ugly snout toward Ron instead. That gave Harry enough time to dart around it.
"Come on, run, run!" Harry yelled, trying to pull Hermione and Hope toward the door. But neither girl could move—they were both frozen with fear.
The shouting and echoes seemed to drive the troll into a frenzy. It roared again and charged toward Ron, who had no way to escape.
Harry acted without thinking. He took a great running jump and grabbed onto the troll's neck from behind. The troll barely noticed—but it did notice when Harry's wand, still clutched in his hand, went straight up one of its nostrils.
Hope stared in awe, both at Harry's bravery and his sheer stupidity.
The troll howled in pain, twisting wildly. It flailed its club, with Harry clinging on for dear life. Any second now, the troll was going to throw him off or land a crushing blow.
Hermione had sunk to the floor in fright. Hope was frozen in horror. Ron, acting on instinct, yanked out his wand. Not knowing what else to do, he shouted the first spell that came to mind.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" He called out swishing and flicking his wand.
The club suddenly wrenched out of the troll's hand, floated high into the air, turned slowly over—and then dropped with a sickening crack onto its owner's head. The troll swayed for a moment before collapsing flat on its face with a resounding thud that made the whole room tremble.
Harry scrambled to his feet, shaking and breathless. Ron stood with his wand still raised, staring at what he had just done.
Hermione was the first to find her voice. She shakily rose to her feet. "Is it—dead?"
"I don't think so," Harry said, bending down to pull his wand from the troll's nose. It was covered in lumpy gray slime. "Urgh—troll bogies." He wiped it on the troll's trousers.
Hope cringed. "Urgh, yuck," she exclaimed, finally shaken out of her daze.
A sudden slamming of doors and hurried footsteps made them all look up. They hadn't realized how much noise they had been making, but someone must have heard the crashes and roars. A moment later, Professor McGonagall burst into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear.
Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and quickly sat down on a toilet, clutching his heart.
Snape bent over the troll, inspecting it. Professor McGonagall, however, was staring at Ron and Harry with a fury Hope had never seen before. Her lips were white with anger.
"What on earth were you thinking?" she demanded, her voice icy. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"
Harry glanced at Ron, who was still holding his wand in the air.
"Please, Professor McGonagall—they were looking for me," Hermione spoke softly.
"Miss Granger!" Professor McGonagall looked shocked.
"I went looking for the troll because I—I thought I could handle it on my own," Hermione lied, her voice steady. "You know, because I've read all about them."
Ron dropped his wand in shock. Hope's eyes widened. Hermione Granger, lying to a teacher?
"If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead. Hope came looking for me first, Harry stuck his wand up its nose, and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to get help. It was about to finish me off when they arrived."
Professor McGonagall stared at them all in silence before finally speaking. "Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this. I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt, you'd better head to Gryffindor Tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses."
Hermione left, and Professor McGonagall turned to the others. "Well, I still say you were lucky. But not many first-years could have taken on a mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed. You may go."
From that moment on, Hermione Granger was part of their group. There are some things you can't share without becoming friends—and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them.