Halloween
Harry woke up the next morning feeling as though he hadn't slept at all. He'd spent so long asleep at breakfast that half his face was red, and when he'd been woken up to actually eat, he'd spilled cereal all down his front. However, even in Potions class, Harry just couldn't stay awake, and he nearly cut up his own hand and his potion ended up a sizzling pit at the bottom of his cauldron. The whole day, actually, he'd been half-awake. In Charms, he fallen asleep and accidentally casted Incendio when he'd gotten woken up. He wasn't able to stuff out the flame in time because Flitwick was staring at him with some sort of disapproval. While he may have lost five points or so, he didn't really get in trouble like he thought he would. In Transfiguration, he wrote about hares and tophats on one page, and a tortoise and a rabbit on another page, which was entirely backwards. And not to mention, he slept right through History of Magic, though that wasn't quite surprising, for the teacher hadn't been alive nor physical enough to wake him up.
During lunch, he didn't eat-- he couldn't even keep his eyes open long enough to bring a fork or a spoon to his mouth-- and in his afternoon classes, things had only gotten worse, he felt.
In Defence Against the Dark Arts, despite the fact they hadn't been doing anything physical anyway, but Quirrell kept waking him up, which unlike Professor Binns, he could do, and Harry threatened to pull off his turban-- landing him an hour of detention sometime next week. In Herbology, he couldn't even tell what Professor Sprout was making the class take notes on, and had to ask Lisa multiple times what they were doing; She didn't have much an idea either, considering she kept falling asleep too. He'd have to ask Luna later for her notes-- she wouldn't mind, he hoped.
And because he was very simply unlucky, he'd chosen the House that was five floors up. And even more unfortunate- the Greenhouses were on the front lawn. They took a long walk, all the way down corridors, up multiple flights of stairs, and past Peeves bullying some second year, and straight through the door-- they had already grown accustomed to the riddles, seeing as it only found new ones every now and then, though Harry felt they only got easier.
He did wake up a bit when he saw Etta, who he had learned to be the Keeper- and Captain- of the Quidditch Team, stood in her own Quidditch robes at the top of the stairs to the female dorm. She held a broomstick-shaped parcel beside her own broom-- a nimbus two-thousand with a gold trim, and one of her nicknames-- Antsy-Etta-- engraved on it in a bright silver cursive, just beside Nimbus Two-thousand in gold.
"Oh! Hi! Are you all feeling better than this morning? Your little friend Anthony told me you bunch 've been out of it all day, I just want to know you're doing well," She asked immediately once she noticed them.
They all nodded.
"Ah, great!" She clapped ecstatically, "So, Harry, I've got your broom for you, it's still in the packaging. It's a Nimbus Two-thousand, like mine, so you can open it now while I explain," She handed him the parcel, and he got to work on the wrapping.
"We're going to head down to the School Quidditch Pitch at six fifty so that we can see how well you fly, and at seven-- on the dot-- I'll get to actual business and explain how the game works to you, and we'll be back before dinner's over. Oh, did you guys know? I'm Quidditch Captain! Well, you might've known, because I've been telling everyone, but apparently, there are people who don't know," Etta spoke quickly before cutting herself off, flashing them an unconvincing smile and staring at her watch. "Um, sorry. Anyway, you kids can go do whatever you'd like until about... six-forty. You can stay here, or go do whatever. Just keep an eye on the clock and get back here by six-forty." She waved, taking her broom with her down into the girls' dorms.
When Harry finally ripped off the last piece of wrapping paper, he, Lisa, and Padma all marvelled at it's beauty.
Sleek and shiny, with a mahogany handle, it had a long tail of neat, straight twigs and Nimbus Two-Thousand written in gold near the top. Unlike Etta's, his name wasn't engraved anywhere near it. It looked much stronger than the school brooms, with no outliers threatening to impale his hand if he picked it up.
"Wicked!" said Lisa. "How do you think it flies? Okay, so, nevermind that-- will one of you go to the library with me? I think today is the day,"
"Lisa, trust me, that book has not been checked back in today," Padma said.
Lisa gasped dramatically.
"Ever heard of being an optimist, Padma Patil? Ultimate supremacist, never has a good mood without a reason, total rich girl? It never hurts to check--"
"Okay, wait! I am not a supremacist-- I'm not any of those things!"
"Whatever, so I was half-wrong. You're not an ultimate supremacist. But it's like, in your blood to be some kind of supremacist and you're also, you know, a rich girl," Lisa corrected, smiling largely. Padma's ears twitched, and she said something very mean-- and then Lisa said something mean in return.
Harry ignored them- their arguing was nothing new, and he figured it was just easier to let them solve it- and went to his dorm. He placed his new broomstick beside Hydrus's case-- who was eating a mouse Harry had gave him at lunch; Hell knows why he's savouring it-- Harry thought he did a very good job of making sure he stayed fed if he wanted something, as long as his requests weren't too outrageous. They were, often, but nonetheless-- and he'd get over his anger if he gets a particular kind of rat.
When they got to the library, almost nobody was there. Lisa was met with a grandiose disappointment as she couldn't find the book she so desperately wanted. Harry had done a bit of wandering, because her whining had begun to get a little loud. He'd gotten to just before the restricted section before he was suddenly pulled around behind a bookcase. He just barely avoided hitting his head on the wood. He was surprised to see Granger, of all people, looking at him, with a worried expression on her face.
"Potter, you're okay, right? You've been half-asleep all day, and I haven't been able to speak with you since the duel, and I don't know why, but I just feel like something important is--" She rambled as she shook him more awake, if possible.
"Granger, I was just tired, I'm fine." Harry swore, pushing a book at her face.
She sighed. "Believe it... or- or not, I consider you... worthwhile to put up with. Unlike most of our year, you actually... well, you're actually tolerable. I mean, I- er- just, whether you see me as. I just want to make sure you're alright." She smiled at him, showing off her braces awkwardly before she went to grab her own book with a wave. He noticed that her ears were still twitching as she walked away.
"Thank you, Hermione!" Harry called, going back to find Padma and Lisa. They'd both been holding random books, though Lisa still looked very despaired. Despite her sadness, she was the first of them to start pointing out random facts from her book, and eventually, Padma was doing the same. Harry didn't know how long they were just picking random books off the shelves and skimming through them, but he didn't waste the chance to leave when he noticed that it was six-thirty. He supposed he'd better go back to the common room early- if he left right at six-forty, then he'd be late by the time he finally got there.
Etta was only just coming out of her dorm when he got there, stretching and yawning. "Hey, look who's early! Just go and get your broom- you don't need a uniform yet. You know, since you're new and this is just practice."
He nodded and stepped down the stairs to his own dorm, quickly grabbed his broom, and followed Etta out the common room.
She led him up to the sixth floor, saying-- "It's easier to go this way."
After a moment with only their footsteps making noise, she said, "With games, it's a... bit confusing. At Hogwarts, there are small games, mock-games, and then there are reaally important games that are worth a ton. The small games give, like, a tenth of the points the important games do. They happen way more often, but trust me, like, half the time, nothing really even happens. There's not even a crowd, you know? Like practice, but you're practicing with another team and you get points for it. Super easy way to skip class, though, trust me, they happen actually all the time. So, mock-games-- er, they're only allowed if, um, Madam Hooch permits it. She's super strict about them, though."
She went quiet and stopped at the portrait of Edgar Stroulger.
"Hello, Mister Stroulger," Etta greeted, her voice much higher than before.
"Hello, Miss Crocker. Still too lazy to take the correct way, I see. Password,"
Harry watched as Etta cheerfully chirped out "Surreptitiousness," making Stroulger roll his eyes, but his portrait flew open, showing a door. Inside, was four different staircases, and Etta took Harry down the one to the furthest left. "Got no clue why he's annoyed with me, when he's the one that's never changes the password," she muttered.
And suddenly, they were walking from behind the portrait of Anne Boleyn, on the first floor.
"Crocker," She simply said, as if accustomed to seeing Etta. She read a book in her hands, and paid them no mind past that.
"Well! Alright then! To the field!" Etta said, and Harry nodded, this time, leading the way to the Quidditch field. He wasn't any more nor any less amazed when he saw it; He saw it everyday outside the windows of the Ravenclaw common room. But he did feel a sudden rush when it occurred to him that he would be flying sooner or later.
"You wait here for just a minute, while I get the supplies. Don't fly, unless you can get away without being seen. At that point, it's out of my hands, you know?" Etta smiled at him, going at a jog back to the main castle. Harry, much to excited to wait, put one leg over his broom, and kicked off. Though he only did it once, he missed when he was soaring in the air; Wind hit his face harshly, and his hair was everywhere, almost making it hard to see, but he paid it no mind. He flew across the pitch-- once, twice, maybe three times-- luckily, nobody was walking past any windows whenever he flew too high or too low.
"Harry! Come down, please!" Etta called up, suddenly outside. Harry glided down, and propped up his broom beside him. "Wow, you're good! I get why Professor Flitwick was so excited for someone new on the team. Smooth, dude," Etta offered him a fist bump, which he questioningly took. She had a large brown box under her arm, and she dropped it on the grass with a thud.
"This practice is just to get you familiar with everything. Make sure you're not totally absolutely lost your first game, you know? Also, the first game of the season is always Gryffindor, but it's always a small match, you know? So, anyways, um, first off; Quidditch is like basketball in the air, and on broomsticks. Or football. You know what basketball and football are, right?" She asked, and Harry nodded as she opened the box. "This beauty is the Quaffle. It's one of the three Chaser's job to get it, and score, and it's the Keeper's job to keep the opposing Chasers from scoring. That's me– I'm the Keeper for our team, and not to mention, Captain, so I'm an awful good one." Etta explained, bouncing the Quaffle on her knee.
"Three Chasers, Keeper, Quaffle." Harry silently recited.
"Yep! Now these two, the Bludgers-- don't let them get one up on you, or you'll be off your broom. That's why we've got Beaters, and two of them. Take this," She handed him what looked like it could've been a baseball bat and then grabbed one herself.
"You might want to back up. I'm used to getting hit in the face by these things, so I've got experience, but that first hit always hurts and you pretty much feel that forever. You ready? Three-- two--" Etta counted down, slowly undoing the straps on the one of the Bludgers that was shaking less. When she finally screamed "One!" The Bludger flew high into the air. It zoomed for Harry's face-- he swung at it hard with the bat, and it zig-zagged back and forth, before going towards Etta.
She hit it overhead with one arm-- her bat went flying with it-- and used her other arm to draw her wand. She screamed out, "Immobulus!", and the Bludger fell to the ground. "You can't do that in a real game-- against the rules, you know, since a Bludger's job is to make the game harder, but you can totally do it if you're in the crowd and it's going for your head. It's even more against the rules for a Beater to throw a Bludger towards the audience." Etta explained, panting as she placed the Bludger back into the straps.
"They've never killed anyone before, have they?" Harry asked, looking at his wrist. Maybe he hit the Bludger a bit too hard. It hurt a bit to turn it.
"'Course not. Well, not at Hogwarts. We've got Madam Pomfrey here anyway, the day someone here dies is the day she's dead. You'ven't gotta worry about them--"
"I'm Harry Potter, there's always something to worry about." Harry pointed out.
Etta burst out laughing. "Oh, you're funny! But Harry, no Bludger is gonna crack your skull or nothing! Our Beaters are mighty good, 'cause there's a reason only a couple people got the skills for the team. Ours, though? They could be the Bludgers if Quidditch got a cinema film. Well, one of them." Etta joked. It put Harry slightly more at ease.
"Now, the last member of the average Quidditch team-- Seeker. That's you. The Seeker's job is... simple. Sometimes. You've just got to catch this little baby--" She pulled a small, gold glistening ball out of the box. "-- the Golden Snitch, and the game ends. The game only ends when the Snitch has been caught, so no Quidditch game can be played if neither team have a Seeker or a reserve. A couple teams don't do reserves anymore, but you gotta plan ahead, just in case. The Golden Snitch is the most important for just that. And, it gives a hundred 'n fifty points to whichever team's Seeker has caught it. That's why they get fouled the most. And I meant that bit earlier-- catching it's the only way games end. The record's three months. Game was full of substitutes so the real players could get sleep. Sorry, off-track. Now, any questions?" She placed the Snitch back, and Harry shook his head, still staring at it.
"Alright. We're not going to be practicing with the snitch just yet, since we might lose it, but I've got these," Etta pulled a bag-full of golf balls from her pocket. "They're sort of school mandatory. Not really, though. Oliver Wood lent them to me-- after a lot of convincing. Now, on your broomstick please." Etta instructed, sounding serious as she hopped on her own broom. Harry hopped on his, and soon, she and Harry were up in the air, and Etta was throwing the golf balls as hard as she could in every direction for Harry to catch. She was positively jumping when he didn't miss a single one.
After night had really fallen, it was too dark to carry on.
"Ooh! This year, the Quidditch Cup is gonna have our names on it!" Etta cheered, as Harry smiled. "Right, then-- I'll see you next week, Harry. I wouldn't be too shocked if you were better than your father. I mean, he was a Chaser-- but I mean, how he did in school. He was a Prefect, and Head Boy! Maybe you'll have one of those badges pinned to your collar someday," Etta said, tapping Harry's shoulder before going inside.
Harry held a spot over his chest, and he couldn't help his smile, which had grown to almost a painful degree. He didn't think he'd ever manage to live up to his father- or, one of- but he loved the idea of getting close to it. He wanted to know anything he could about his parents.
The days flew by, and before he realised it, it was October thirty-first. Just a day before what would mark his second month at Hogwarts. The Castle felt more like home than ever, with all the friends he had gained. He, Padma, Luna, and Lisa spent their free times in the warm library, sometimes with Draco, or Hermione- who Harry found he actually got along with very well, and they had even met Ron a couple of times when walking to classes. Lessons had become easier, now that they had learned the basics and gotten used to the homework.
But all day, on Halloween-- the day his parents died, as the voices reminded him, sounding very cheerful-- he didn't get a wink of sleep the night before. He couldn't go a minute without some horridly morbid thought, or twitching whenever some cold chill of air hit him. However, in a scattered Charms class-- different students from each House-- they would be practicing the real levitation charm. He was working with Padma-- luckily-- Lisa was working with Luna, Draco was working with Blaise Zabini, and Ron had been with Hermione. It was hard to tell who had been angrier about the ordeal.
Hermione had been content on not talking to Ron since the duel, though, in a bit of a hypocritical manner, she'd been fine keeping in close contact with Harry. He had to admit, he wasn't entirely sure why at first, but he wasn't really complaining now. He thought they got along very well.
Padma, at their table, had gotten so impatient when the feather didn't fly that she hit it with her wand, muttering an incendio, and pushed it off the table to watch it burn.
"Padma!" Harry gasped quietly, frantically stomping out the fire.
"What?! Not my fault!" She whispered back, crossing her arms angrily.
Lisa hadn't been much luckier either-- she couldn't get the flick of her swish and flick right, and Luna didn't even know that because they were both making the mistake-- and Draco was busy struggling to make Zabini pay attention. Ron and Hermione, however--
"Wingardium Leviosa!" Ron yelled at his table, flailing his arm wildly.
"Stop, stop, stop!" Hermione snapped, hitting Ron's hand. "Oh, you're saying it wrong! It's Win-gar-dium Levio-sa! And it's a swish and flick, not a 'hit!' Stop flinging your arms like an idiot!"
"If you know so much about what I'm doing wrong, then you do it!" He snarled, pushing the feather in her direction.
"Oh, gladly, maybe you'll learn something," spat Hermione bitterly, picking up her wand. "Wingardium Leviosa," She said, with a perfect swish and flick, and her feather was a few feet in the air. She looked at Harry almost tauntingly as Flitwick congratulated her.
"I can do that too," Harry muttered, and his feather too lifted into the air with a silent "Wingardium Leviosa."
Padma gasped. "Professor! Harry's done it too!" She shouted out, apparently oblivious to the real reason Harry made their feather fly. He and Hermione had both gotten twenty House points, and Harry, admittedly, couldn't tell who was more smug afterwards, though he would've argued that he was. And the voices claiming that he wasn't were very wrong.
The corridor was filled with chatter as the class ended.
"You're lucky you were with Crabbe," Draco told Goyle with a groan. "Blaise is missing half his brain, I swear. He thinks that Tracey will notice him if he looks stupid enough."
"Oh, yes-- Mandy is such a help, you know," grumbled Lisa beside him sarcastically. "Saw us struggling and absolutely told us I wasn't flicking my wrist right, and that I wasn't saying Leviosa correctly. Oh no, it wasn't dumb Zacharias Smith to tell me off, it was all Mandy, because she's soo sweet, and soo helpful-- she definitely wasn't laughing herself silly."
"It's no wonder no one can stand her," Harry heard Ron say, as he pushed his way with into the crowded corridor, "She's a nightmare, honestly."
Hermione- probably who he was talking about- had clearly heard him. She ran past Harry, bumping into him on accident, and disappeared around the corner.
Harry, barely able to catch a glimpse of her face-- she was on the brink of tears-- rushed after her before he even knew why, shouting her name. He barely heard the girls scolding Ron, but he was in such a bad mood that he started telling them off in return.
"Hermione, please!" Harry yelled, as Hermione ran through another corridor, her eyes tight shut, and filled with tears. "Would you just listen to me for a moment?!" He shouted again, and Hermione had pushed open the door to the girl's bathroom.
"Hermione, come on!" Harry called through the door.
"Go away, Harry," muttered Hermione against the door, sniffling.
"No, I'm not going to go away. I came all this way for a reason, you know. You're my friend." Harry sat before the door. He knew friends tried to make eachother feel better when one of them felt bad-- he just didn't know how to do that.
"I'm... your friend?" She asked, through sobs.
"No. Yes, of course you are! Who other than Padma and Lisa and Luna do I tell everything?"
The voices said something mean, but it wasn't very wrong. They said he was too trusting of people who didn't deserve his attention. But Harry thought the opposite. Hermione was very nice. And he did tell her a lot of things.
"You're not serious," Hermione said, laughing.
"I am!" Harry huffed involuntarily. "I promise I could tell you a secret nobody else knows, and I mean it!"
And suddenly, the door opened behind him. "I'm alright now. But can we not go back to classes..?" Hermione asked, rubbing her eyes. Her face looked much better, and more like she had been crying of laughter than sadness, with how large her smile was.
"Of course, who said we had to go back to class? We can skip all our afternoon classes, we're smart enough to pull it off," Harry said, standing up. Hermione pulled him into a tight hug when he got himself steady.
"Thank you for cheering me up." She said, still giggling.
"What are friends for?" Harry asked, hugging her back.
Hermione wasn't crying anymore, but tears still ran down her face, and she let out the occasional sob-- partially on Harry's shoulder, but he didn't mind. They stood there, Hermione crying, but not crying-crying, on his shoulder, for what felt like atleast ten minutes, before their legs got tired.
"Library?" Harry asked.
"Definitely," Hermione nodded, wiping away the rest of her tears.
In the Library, Madam Pince hadn't even noticed them creeping past the counter, and they just sat there, hidden from the rest of the school. For hours, they picked up books to read, and made stacks to hide behind when Madam Pince walked past, having quiet on and off conversation, enjoying eachothers company, and suddenly, they had already missed their last class. Madam Pince had gone elsewhere, having left without a word. The moment she noticed, Hermione stood up to leave, admitting she hoped Samantha hadn't gotten lost in the school, because, apparently, that had happened often, and Harry agreed, thinking of where Padma and Lisa were. But before she left, Hermione tapped Harry's shoulder lightly.
"Do you smell that?" She muttered, putting her hand over her nose. Harry sniffed, and nodded in agreement. It smelled like a mixture of old socks and the school toilet that, despite the constant cleaning, never smelled quite right, paired with Dudley after he hadn't taken in bath in days, all in one.
"We should leave." Harry said, as Hermione took out her wand. He did the same, and, hesitantly, they slowly walked out the library. The first thing they spotted; Down the corridor, not facing them, was a troll. It looked exactly as books described how they typically did: Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite gray, on it's lumpy body like a boulder with its small, bald head perched on top like an unstable hat. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was incredibly disgusting. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long, and it walked in the direction of the Dungeons. Harry would've retched at the stench, had he not been frozen in fear.
A troll? Why is there a troll at Hogwarts? Harry had been so frozen that Hermione was nearly dragging him along, pulling him by his wrist in the other direction.
"We've got to get to the Great Hall and tell someone," She huffed, turning corner after corner, and corridor after corridor. And suddenly, they were before the door to the Great Hall.
"Go tell Patil, I've heard she gets along with Penelope Clearwater. I'll try to tell Percy," Hermione instructed, and Harry nodded as she opened the door. The Great Hall had been decorated greatly; A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over the tables in low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter. The feast had been on the golden plates, as it had at the start-of-term banquet, but Harry paid none of it any mind, and ran over to Padma, who had been searching the hall with her eyes.
"Oh, Harry! There you are--"
"Padma! There's no time! You need to tell Penelope, there's a--"
The doors of the Great Hall opened abruptly, and he paused to look; Quirrell came sprinting in, his turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared curiously as he reached Dumbledore's chair and slumped against the table pathetically. He huffed and panted for about a minute before finally speaking.
"Troll-- in the dungeons. Thought you ought to know." He spoke, before falling to the floor, unconscious. There was a rather loud uproar-- children screaming, crying, and some shrieking. Draco was among the ones terrified. Hermione, Harry noticed, had been too busy trying to calm down crying Samantha and Neville, who both clung to either of her arms, to be scared.
Everyone slowly quieted down after a couple purple firecrackers.
"Prefects," Dumbledore yelled. "Lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"
There were complaints, particularly from the Slytherins.
"We stay in the dungeons!" Someone yelled, though it remained unheard by the elderly Headmaster. Penelope Clearwater and Robert Hilliard were the only Prefects Harry recognised, leading the Ravenclaws up a staircase, before Padma shook Harry.
"Lisa, she-- she doesn't know about the troll. She went to the Library to look for the book she's been obsessing over. She thought if she snuck in, she'd be able to get it. I should've went with her, I--" she stammered, whispering frantically. He didn't think he'd ever heard her stammer.
"It's okay, the troll went to the Dungeons, we can get her," Harry told her, looking around them. "Come on," He dragged Padma out the Ravenclaw crowd, to the slower group of Gryffindors-- Percy the Prefect had been yelling very loudly, "Follow me! Stick together, first years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first years coming through! Excuse me, I'm a prefect!"-- and then they took the first chance they got to run off.
"How could a troll even get in? They're supposed to be idiotic," Padma wondered, as she and Harry ran down the corridor to the Library.
"Like I'd know. Maybe it was Peeves. Thought it'd be a good joke," Harry answered, pushing open the door, and a disgusting stench flew in the air.
"The hell?" Padma muttered, putting her hand over her nose, retching. Harry, however, recognised it. And, even had he not, the scene before him was terrifying enough.
Lisa barely stood on a high bookcase, shrieking, petrified, and the troll stood underneath her as it threw it's bat around, flailing around and hitting books and tables.
"Hey, you great-- great oaf!" Padma screamed, drawing her wand quickly. The troll turned around, blinking stupidly, and caught sight of Padma and Harry, both of which had wands in hand.
"Wait-- wait-- HEY, YOU-- YOU TROLL!" Lisa shouted, throwing a rather large book at the troll's head. It didn't notice the book, but turned to look at Lisa once again, giving Harry and Padma a chance to split across the ransacked Library. The troll stumbled up to Lisa's book case once again, and Harry raised his wand at it's head.
"Immobulus!" He screamed, just as the troll brought it's bat above it's head. It froze, and it's hands flew open. The bat, sharp, much more like a thick chunk of wood, hit it's head with a loud thud. He fell, almost painfully, and Lisa, albeit hesitantly, hopped off the bookcase, and landed on the troll's back. She groaned, holding her ankles.
"His skin feels like I'm trying to walk on wet concrete with a bunch of lumps," She commented, grimacing as Harry and Padma helped her down.
"Harry, how do you know that spell? That's not a part of our curriculum as first years." Padma asked.
"Uh... Etta. She casted it infront of me a while back." Harry said, as Lisa kicked the troll's nose. "Do you think that's gonna make your ankle hurt less?"
Lisa sent him an annoyed, sideways glance. "I'm beginning to think it's impossible for you to say something nice. Something that's not backhanded, either. But, saying what I was going to say, I think he's unconscious. It was a hell of a blow though, so there's no telling when he'll be up. If he'll be up. We should get out of here." She said, and the library door suddenly slamming open, followed by loud footsteps, made all three of them look up. They hadn't realized what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone must have heard the crashes. It was just unfortunate who the someone- or, someones- happened to be.
McGonagall had come bursting 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 sat quickly down on a part of a broken table.
Snape bent over the troll. McGonagall was looking at all of them with a strict glare. Harry had never seen her look so angry. Her lips were a notable pale white.
"What on earth were you thinking?!" McGonagall she yelled, with cold fury in her voice. Harry looked at Padma and Lisa, who were both as dumbfounded as he was. "You're lucky you weren't killed! Why aren't you in your dormitory?!"
"Ma'am, its my fault." Lisa stepped forward, and her ears were so pick she almost looked sick. "I wasn't at dinner, and didn't know there was a troll, and they came looking for me. If they hadn't found me, I'd probably be dead."
"Miss Turpin!" McGonagall shrieked, shocked, but then, she sighed.
"In that case... Miss Turpin, your mother will hear of this. I'd expect better... the library does not allow you to be here when Madam Pince is not. But you all bringing down a fully grown troll on your own is rather impressive, and very lucky for first years. On behalf of, I'm sure, the school-- good job. You all better get to your common room, the Houses are finishing the feast there. You've all earned five points for Ravenclaw. Each. Now, go," McGonagall dismissed them, and they had left the library excitedly.
In the common room, it was packed and noisy, unlike the regular peace and silence. Everyone was eating the food that had been sent up. But Harry noticed that he was smiling an awful lot as he ate.
"You fought the troll?" Luna repeated, very pale. But she was so giggly it was hard to tell if she found it amusing or concerning. "I thought I'd only walked too fast-- that's where you'd gone? Was it difficult?"
"I thought we would die," said Lisa very bluntly, "I got really lucky Padma and Harry were there. I totally froze up when I saw that thing."
So, It hadn't been a terrible day as he thought it would be. Even the voices couldn't make him feel bad. He supposed it wasn't an entirely bad idea, trusting his friends. Maybe he should be nicer- they were his... friends. He had friends. He never would've imagined the day would arrive, but he was pleasantly surprised to find that it was possible.