Year 1
The next morning the four students woke up to their older peers quietly making their way to breakfast, doing their best not to wake them. The boys recollect the night to their roommates, even if Neville had chosen he didn't want to address the issue, as they made their way down, safely tucked away from Ravenclaws in secret tunnels. Hermione, much like Neville, had chosen not to talk about it, not that she was very convincing in hiding her interest. She was refusing to talk to them because of their “blatant disrespect of the rules”.
When the owls arrived and dropped the odd looking package in front of him, the Gryffindor team closing rank around him told him all he needed to know about the package. The note from Professor McGonagall was helpful though, and it quickly disappeared so the rest of the table knew why Ron, Harry, and Oliver were leaving. They had made their way to the entrance hall only to find Malfoy and his goons blocking the public way to the tower, staring at them. “That’s a broomstick,” Malfoy spat with jealousy and spite, “first years aren’t allowed them, you’ll be in real trouble this time.” Oliver squinted at him, “Don’t you think that the fact that he has it is sign enough he’s allowed.”
Malfoy was about to retort but Professor Flitwick appeared at his elbow, “I do hope there’s no problems here boys.”
“Oh nothing of the sort Professor,” Wood replied cheerfully, “Malfoy here was just curious about Harry’s new broom.”
Ah yes,” the professor beamed at Harry, “Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances. What model is it?”
“A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir,” Harry answered. The three boys tried not to laugh at Malfoy’s confused horror as they made their way up the stairs and ducked into a passageway that had them at the common room within seconds.
Ron and Harry were excited to unwrap the broom but before they could go up to their room Oliver stopped them. “Boys, remember what I said about you being allowed to have the broom because the owl brought it to you?” The boys nodded. “That’s an actual rule, if something isn’t allowed the owl carrying it will be rerouted, if you ever need something that is against the rules talk to me or Percy, we’ll be able to get it for you. And Harry,” The boy looked at him expectantly, ‘I’ll see you at practice at seven tonight.” Oliver didn’t wait for an answer before stepping out of the portrait.
The Quidditch practice had made Harry very busy and before he knew it he’d been at Hogwarts for two months and it was Halloween morning and he was waking up to the smell of baking pumpkins. A couple of the older Gryffindors were setting up a time for divination later that night, Lavender and Parvati signed up but the rest of the first years didn’t. In Charms they were finally learning how to make things fly. Harry was partnered up with Seamus, much to Neville’s disappointment as he’d been trying to catch his eye all day. Of course Neville’s disappointment was nothing compared to the raging anger coming off of Hermione and Ron, who weren’t pleased at their forced partnership. Harry and Seamus weren’t having much luck with practicing the spell, but Seamus had found a couple of ways to set the feather on fire. Ron wasn’t doing much better.
“Wingardium Leviosa!” he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill. “You're saying it wrong, " Hermione snapped. “It’s Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the ‘gar’ longer.”
‘You do it then, if you’re so clever.” She rolled up her sleeves, flicked her wand, and said, “Wingardium Leviosa!” The feather rose off the desk and into the air about four feet. Ron was in a very bad mood by the end of the class.
“No wonder no one can stand her,” Ron huffed, “she’s insufferable.” Hermione bumped into Harry as she ran past him, she was crying. “I think she heard you.”
“So?” said Ron, who seemed more than a little uncomfortable. “She must have noticed she’s got no friends.”
Hermione wasn’t seen for the rest of the day and at dinner they ended up hearing from Parvati that she’d seen Hermione crying in the girls bathroom and that she didn’t want to be bothered. Ron looked guilty. The decorations and food of the fest distracted them soon enough. Harry was just about to dig into a baked potato when Professor Quirrell, turban askew and terror etched into his face, came running into the hall. He was able to reach the head table before slumping down onto it and gasping, “Troll- in the dungeons- thought you ought to know.” He then dropped into a dead faint.
The chaos that followed only barely touched the Gryffindor table, not that anyone could tell. They were worried, sure, but the older years quickly made it a game of who can act the most scared. When the headmaster gave the authority to the prefects half of the table almost doubled over in laughter as Percy started to really play up the annoying prefect persona. Harry and Ron were more than happy to follow him back to the common room cause this was one of the funniest things they had seen in a while, before Harry remembered that Hermione didn’t know about the troll. They forced their ways closer to Percy and Ron whispered, “Perce, Hermione doesn’t know about the troll.” Percy looked at him like he’d grown a second head, “What.”
“She wasn't at the feast.” Percy’s eyes scanned the hall in front of them, “The blue tapestry has a hall behind it, go find her and stay away from the dungeon.” The boys nodded before slipping through the tapestry. They were just about to re-enter the main hallways when they heard quick footsteps approaching them. They huddled further behind the stone griffin that hid their shortcut as Snape crossed the corridor. “Why isn't he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?” Harry whispered. “I don't know,” Ron hissed back, “but he's going towards the third floor.”
Any further discussion was cut off by the worst thing either of the boys had ever smelled. The troll came lumbering down the hall. Neither boy dared breath in fear that the inevitable gagging they would do upon smelling the creature would draw its attention. The troll stopped in front of a doorway, its ears moving a bit before it entered the room. “The keys in the lock,” Harry pointed out. Ron nodded and the boys tip toed towards the door, shutting and locking it before letting out matching breaths of relief. “Okay, now we just have to find Hermione,” whispered Ron. “Wait isn't this the girls bath-” a petrified scream cut Harry off. “Oh no,” Ron breathed out and Harry scrambled to unlock the door.
Hermione was pressed against the opposite wall, looking faint, as the troll moved towards her, knocking sinks off the wall. Harry grabbed a tap and threw it as hard as he could against a wall in an attempt to distract the creature. The troll started moving towards Harry, lifting its club. “Oy, pea brain!” Ron yelled from the other side of the chamber, threw a pipe at the troll, distracting it long enough for Harry to run around it and try to pull Hermione to the door. Hermione's frozen state made it impossible. The noise seemed to make the troll go berserk, it roared as it started towards Ron, and Harry then did something very stupid, but brave: he took a running jump and fastened his arms around the troll's neck, his wand going up the troll's nose. The troll flailed around as Harry held on for dear life. Ron, in a moment of desperation, yelled the first spell that came to his head. “WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!” The club rose into the air, before dropping, with a sickening crunch, onto the troll's head.
The silence that followed was broken by Hermione, “Is it dead?”
“I don't think so,” Harry said.
Harry was just able to pull his wand out of the troll's nose and clean it off in the now broken sink before the teachers came barging in. Professor McGonagall is scary by the way.
They were met with Percy and Hermione at the painting when they entered the common room. “Hermione told me what happened, are you two okay?” Percy started fussing over them, sighing in relief when there were only minor scratches, “Why in the world wouldn't Professor McGonagall not send you to the infirmary? You just fought a troll for Merlin's sake!” Percy seemed to be on the edge of a rant on untrustworthy authority figures, so Harry and Ron took the chance to slip away and tell their roommates about what happened, leaving Hermione with the prefect.
…….
“Percy?”
“Yes Hermione?”
“Why are you so mad at Professor McGonagall? She was probably busy, I mean, a troll was in the school and they needed to get it out before it woke up, right?”
Percy sighed and looked down at the phoenix, “Let me explain what her duties are as our Head of House. And why she, isn't doing them.”