Chapter 9
Cassidy sprinted down the corridor, her heart hammering as Harry and Ron's frantic shouts echoed behind her.
"Cassidy, stop! You can't go in there alone!" Harry yelled.
"She's completely mental," Ron muttered, though he kept running after her.
Cassidy ignored them, determination surging through her veins. Hermione was in danger, and it was all her fault. If she hadn't delayed giving Harry that stupid note earlier, Hermione wouldn't have stormed off to cry in the girls' bathroom, completely unaware of the troll stalking the castle.
As they turned the corner, a nauseating stench filled the air, so thick it made Cassidy gag.
"What is that?" Ron gasped, covering his nose with his sleeve.
They skidded to a halt just outside the girls' bathroom. The door was slightly ajar, and inside, they could hear the troll's heavy, lumbering steps.
"It's already in there," Harry whispered, his face pale.
"Then so are we," Cassidy said firmly, shoving the door open.
The scene inside was pure chaos. Smashed sinks and shattered tiles littered the floor. The troll was in the center of the room, its hulking figure towering over everything as it swung its massive club.
And there, frozen in terror, was Hermione, huddled against the far wall.
"Hermione!" Cassidy shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos.
The troll turned, its beady eyes locking onto Cassidy. It let out a deafening ROAR, raising its club.
"Cassidy, MOVE!" Harry shouted, pushing her away from the troll's immediate line of sight as the club slammed into where she had been standing, shaking the bathroom.
Hermione let out a startled scream, and Ron grabbed her arm, trying to pull her out of the troll's line of sight. "We've got to distract it!" he yelled.
Cassidy peeked out from under the sink, her necklace flaring hot against her chest. She widened her eyes as she saw the club coming, and ran away from that spot. The troll roared again, swinging its club wildly and smashing another row of sinks into rubble.
"Split up!" Harry yelled, darting to the left while Cassidy and Ron moved to the right.
The troll hesitated, confused by the sudden movement.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" Harry shouted, aiming at a piece of debris. The spell fizzled, the rubble barely twitching.
Cassidy's necklace burned hotter, and an idea sparked in her mind. "Ron, aim for its club!" she yelled.
"Why the club?" Ron shouted back, panicked.
"Just trust me!"
Ron raised his wand, his hand trembling. "Wingardium Leviosa!" he shouted.
To everyone's shock, the club floated up into the air, leaving the troll grasping at empty space.
"It worked!" Harry exclaimed.
The troll blinked stupidly at its hovering weapon, its attention completely distracted.
"Ron, drop it on its head!" Cassidy yelled.
"Are you sure?" Ron stammered, his wand shaking.
"DO IT!" both Cassidy and Harry shouted at once.
With a flick of his wrist, Ron sent the club crashing down onto the troll's thick skull.
The troll swayed for a moment, its eyes crossing, before collapsing onto the floor with a deafening thud.
"Cool." Ron said, looking at the troll's unconscious body.
The bathroom fell silent except for the sound of their heavy breathing. Hermione looked at each of them, her face pale but unharmed.
"You... you saved me," she whispered, tears in her eyes.
Cassidy let out a shaky laugh, relief flooding her. "Yeah, well, don't make a habit of it."
Ron broke into a grin, his face flushed with triumph. "Did you see that? I actually did it!"
Cassidy turned to him, her expression softening. "Yeah, you did," she said quietly. Then, to his surprise, she threw her arms around him.
Ron froze, his ears turning bright red. "Uh—"
When Cassidy pulled back, she was smiling. "That was really brave, Weasley."
Ron stammered something unintelligible, his face now matching his hair.
Harry clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. "Good job, Ron."
Before they could say more, hurried footsteps and stern voices echoed from the hallway.
"Uh-oh," Ron muttered as Professor McGonagall stormed in, followed by Snape and a quivering Professor Quirrell.
The scene that greeted them—an unconscious troll, a demolished bathroom, and four disheveled students—made McGonagall's lips thin with disapproval.
"Explain yourselves," she demanded sharply.
Before Cassidy could speak, Hermione stepped forward. "It's my fault, Professor. I went looking for the troll, thinking I could handle it. If they hadn't come, I'd be dead."
McGonagall's stern expression softened, though her tone remained firm. "Miss Granger, that was incredibly foolish. Five points from Gryffindor."
The four students sagged their shoulders in shame.
"But for sheer nerve and bravery..." She paused, her lips twitching. "Five points to each of you."
They all looked up then, smiles all over their faces. Then, Harry seemed to be looking at Snape's leg. The latter covered it quickly before Cassidy could get a look, and her necklace grew a little warm.
As they walked back toward the common room, Cassidy fell into step beside Hermione.
"Why'd you cover for us?" she whispered.
"She owed that to us, we saved her life!" Ron interrupted, and Cassidy turned to him with a scowl. He shut up.
"Mind you, she wouldn't need to be saved if you hadn't insulted her." Harry told Ron, which made the latter go pink with shame.
Hermione gave the three a small smile. "Because... you're my friends."
"Well... what're friends for?" Ron said, to both of the girls' surprise. Hermione gave him a grin, and for once, he grinned back.
Cassidy's chest warmed as she squeezed Hermione's hand.
Ron muttered, "At least we know one thing."
"What's that?" Cassidy asked, glancing at him.
"Trolls aren't so hard to beat," Ron said with a smirk.
Cassidy rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help smiling. That night, the four of them became inseparable friends—because there are some things you can't experience together without forming unbreakable bonds.
And defeating a troll was definitely one of them.
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The morning of Harry's first Quidditch match was calm, though the three friends spent most of breakfast discussing silly theories about Professor Quirrell's turban and debating Cassidy's necklace.
"Take a bit of toast, Harry, go on," Ron urged, now seated next to Cassidy, who had forgiven him after the troll incident.
"Ron's right, Harry. You're going to need your strength today," Hermione added.
"I've never heard of anything good coming from a Quidditch player who didn't eat before a match," Cassidy said, taking a large bite of bread herself, ever the hungry one.
Harry pushed his plate away. "I'm not hungry."
Before the others could protest, Professor Snape approached their table, his dark figure looming over them. Cassidy straightened, doing her best to hide her scowl.
"Good luck today, Potter," Snape drawled, his tone anything but encouraging. "Then again, since you've already proven yourself against a troll, a little Quidditch match should be child's play—even against Slytherin."
Cassidy scoffed under her breath, but the sound was loud enough to earn her a sharp glare from Snape before he strode away. This time, Cassidy noticed with some relief that her necklace hadn't warmed up around him.
As the group watched Snape limp toward the staff table, Ron leaned in. "Why's he walking like that?"
"That explains the blood," Harry muttered.
Cassidy tilted her head. "What blood?"
Harry glanced around and then lowered his voice. "Listen, last night, I reckon Snape let the troll in as a diversion so he could get past that three-headed dog. But it bit him—that's why he's limping. And it explains why Cassidy's necklace keeps reacting to him. He's dangerous."
"But why would anyone go near that dog?" Hermione asked.
"The day I was at Gringotts, Hagrid took something out of the vaults. Said it was top secret, Hogwarts business," Harry continued.
"So you think—" Hermione began.
"That's what the dog's guarding," Harry finished. "And that's what Snape's after."
Cassidy frowned. "But if my necklace flares up when someone dangerous is near, why didn't it heat up just now when Snape walked by?"
The others looked thoughtful, but before anyone could answer, a flurry of feathers and the sound of wings interrupted them. A large package, carried by a tawny owl, dropped neatly into Harry's hands.
"I... I never get mail," Harry said, staring at the package in confusion.
"Let's open it!" Ron said, his blue eyes gleaming. Cassidy nodded enthusiastically.
The four of them tore into the packaging like children at Christmas, revealing a sleek broomstick inside.
"A broomstick," Harry said, sounding puzzled by his own words.
"That's not just any broomstick, Harry!" Cassidy exclaimed, her eyes wide with awe. "That's a Nimbus 2000!"
She clutched Ron's arm in excitement. "Only the fastest, latest model. Oh, Merlin, I'd give an arm and a leg to own one of these!"
Ron chuckled, shaking his head. "You'd give up food for it, more like."
Hermione smirked, amused by Cassidy's enthusiasm, while Harry stared at the broom, dumbfounded. "But who...?"
His question was answered by Professor McGonagall's owl, perched nearby with a knowing look. McGonagall stood at the staff table, smiling ever so slightly in Harry's direction.
Harry's face lit up in realization, and he gave her a small, grateful nod.
The stands buzzed with energy as Gryffindor and Slytherin players took to the Quidditch pitch. Hermione, Ron, and Cassidy cheered loudly when Harry flew out with the Gryffindor team.
Lee Jordan was already on his feet, shouting, "And here come the Gryffindors! Captain Oliver Wood leads his team out, with seeker Harry Potter making his debut!"
Cassidy leaned forward, her eyes glued to the pitch—not on Harry, but on two particular red-headed beaters flying in perfect formation.
"Merlin, just look at them," Cassidy sighed, resting her chin in her hand. "Fred and George are so... I don't even have words."
Ron shot her a sideways glance, raising an eyebrow. "What, you've gone all dreamy over my brothers now?"
"Dreamy?" Cassidy turned to him with a sheepish grin. "I mean, can you blame me? They're funny, talented, and fearless on a broom. What's not to love?"
Hermione raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Well, at least she's consistent. Quidditch and Weasleys."
Cassidy laughed but didn't deny it, her gaze drifting back to the twins as they circled high above. "They're the best Beaters Gryffindor's ever had. Honestly, I'd marry either of them if they asked."
Ron rolled his eyes, a faint flush creeping over his cheeks. "Alright, alright, we get it. The twins are great. Maybe focus on cheering Harry on, yeah?"
Cassidy nudged him with her elbow, grinning. "Don't worry, Weasley. You've got my attention too." Before he could ask what that meant, she turned back toward the pitch, cupping her hands around her mouth. "GO HARRY! SMASH THOSE SLYTHERINS!"
Flustered, Ron looked away and joined in the cheering. Hermione simply shook her head, though she couldn't help but smile at the banter.
Out on the pitch, Harry zoomed into position, ready to face whatever the game—and the Slytherins—had in store.
Madam Hooch strode into the middle of the pitch, her whistle gleaming in the sunlight. She stood before the trunk of Quidditch balls, her sharp gaze sweeping over both teams.
"Now, I want a nice, clean game," she announced, her voice firm.
Cassidy, seated in the front of the Gryffindor stands between Ron and Hermione, snickered. She leaned toward Ron, her voice low enough not to draw attention. "Hard to believe that'll happen with Slytherin playing. I mean, look at Flint. He looks like he's plotting someone's untimely demise."
She pointed toward Marcus Flint, the burly Slytherin Captain, whose sneer looked almost comically menacing.
Ron chuckled, covering his mouth. "You're not wrong, though. He's a troll on a broomstick."
Hermione gave them both a disapproving look. "Shh, you two. Harry's trying to focus!"
Before Cassidy could retort, Madam Hooch reached into the trunk and the Quaffle was thrown up, officially starting the game.
As play resumed, the auditorium roared again when two Slytherin players deliberately stormed Angelina Johnson. She tumbled to the ground, her broom skidding across the pitch.
"That's a foul! That has to be a foul!" Ron bellowed, standing and pointing furiously.
But Madam Hooch either didn't see or chose to ignore it, and Slytherin scored once again.
Cassidy stomped her foot, her tight coils bouncing as her frustration bubbled over. "Oh, fiddlesticks!" she fumed, glaring down at the Slytherin players. "This isn't Quidditch; it's an all-out brawl!"
"They're worse than trolls," Ron muttered.
Meanwhile, Harry zipped across the pitch, his gaze locked on something in the air.
"Harry's seen the Snitch!" Neville cried, pointing toward him.
Cassidy's hopes lifted, but they plummeted just as quickly when Harry's broom jerked violently.
"What's going on?" Cassidy gasped, standing to get a better look.
"Look!" she shouted, grabbing Ron's arm and pointing. "Snape's muttering something—he's jinxing the broom!"