This past month has been rater hectic, so I haven't had the time to write much, but I finally managed to find the time to finish this chapter. You might notice that I've also added a story image, namely a head-shot of Veronica Weasley, as drawn by me. She looks pretty close to how I'm imagining her; not overly beautiful (as in my mind Ginny is the looker in the family), but in my eyes still kinda cute.
WEASLEY GIRL
Based on the Harry Potter books by J. K. Rowling
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Cloak and the Troll
They stayed at the hospital wing for two more days, but Harry found he didn't mind as much as he'd feared he would. While the careful testing of their potions immunity was never very pleasant (Madam Pomfrey had some rather foul-tasting ones, neither of which had any effect on either of them), the hospital wing wasn't a bad place to stay so long as you were with good friends.
Since Madam Pomfrey had declared their "conditions" to be non-critical and unlikely to be contagious (and Fred, George and Percy seemed to have done their part in spreading the official story to the student body at large), they had several visitors as well — just about all their fellow Gryffindor first-years stopped by to see how they were doing, and to summarize lessons and (to Hermione's satisfaction) deliver homework.
Two of the visits were especially notable, however.
The first one was by Trevor the Toad, who caused a bit of an awkward situation on the first morning after their conversation with Dumbledore. It was quite early in the morning still when Potter's Gang were awakened by a small, startled shriek from Ronnie, who had woken up to quite unexpectedly find a toad sitting on her pillow.
Ronnie's face was extremely pink when she handed Trevor over to Neville, explaining that she really didn't mind him, it was just that waking up to discover two toad eyes staring at you was a bit of an unnerving experience.
"Sorry about that," said Neville, who looked about as embarrassed as Ronnie did. "He must have found his way here during the night. I don't even know how he did it, he never remembers the way back to our dorm room." He looked down at his pet, who looked back at him with the typically stoic expression of a toad and didn't seem like he was about to provide any sort of explanation.
Trevor's stay was fairly short-lived, though, as Madam Pomfrey, upon entering, declared that pets were not allowed in the hospital wing, and carried the toad away.
The second (and, in Harry's opinion, far more satisfying) visit happened later that afternoon. Shortly before dinnertime, Hagrid entered the room, looking — as he always did when he was indoors — much too big to be allowed, but his beetle-black eyes were just as warm and friendly as ever, and he gave them all a big smile as he carefully made his way toward their beds.
"So glad ter see yer all righ'!" he beamed, looking at all of them, "Yeh four gave us all a bit of a fright there, unconscious fer three days an' all! How're yeh feelin'?"
As they all assured him they were feeling fine, Hagrid sat down on an available chair, which looked much too small for him, but strangely enough didn't even creak warningly as he sat down.
"So what happened ter yeh in Snape's office, anyway?" he said, looking at them with a mix of concern and curiosity. "Dumbledore made the announcement yesterday that yeh'd bin in a bit of an accident."
Harry thought for a second. Though Hagrid was obviously in on many of Dumbledore's secrets (such as the mysterious parcel he'd retrieved from Gringotts a couple of months ago), he had obviously not been informed of this one. "A shelf collapsed," he said, sticking as closely to the truth as he could. "The potions mixed and created some strange smoke that knocked us out when we breathed it in."
"We're fine now, though," said Neville.
"Well, tha's a relief," said Hagrid. "Coulda bin dangerous, that."
"Hagrid," Hermione suddenly said. "Do you know anything about the Mirror of Erised?"
"Er - wha'?" Hagrid blinked and turned to look at her. "The Mirror of — er, well, 's a mirror, innit? It's in the name."
"Yes, but do you know anything more about it?" said Hermione. "We saw it down in Snape's office, before the accident, and we figured out that it showed us our hearts' desires whenever we looked in it —"
"I saw my parents, Hagrid," said Harry.
"Oh." A sad expression washed over Hagrid's face. "Blimey, Harry, I'm sorry."
"So am I," Harry admitted. Seeing parents — and all his other relatives too, but mostly his parents — in the Mirror had awoken something in him that he hadn't really known about before. Before, they had simply been abstract concepts, a couple of meaningless names. Their death was sad, of course, and he'd more than once wished that they had still been alive, but it had been more a desire to get away from the Dursleys than anything else. But now... now he had faces to go with the names; he could remember how they smiled at him, the love in their eyes. It was as though he'd for the first time found out exactly what it was he had lost, and it hurt.
Hagrid sighed, and then looked at all of them. "Yeah, I know abou' the Mirror," he said. "S' one o' those magical things that's bin at Hogwarts fer ages an' nobody really knows where comes from. Not that long ago since I had ter haul it down ter Snape's office, an' when I looked in it — well, any case, looks like yeh know all about it already," he interrupted himself, as if suddenly afraid he was saying too much.
"But there's more to it than that, isn't it?" Hermione pressed. "Dumbledore said that the Mirror could do more than just show us what we wanted."
Hagrid looked decidedly uncomfortable. "Well, I wouldn' know abou' that," he said, though Harry noticed that he didn't meet Hermione's eyes when he said this, just like he hadn't wanted to meet Harry's eyes when he denied that Snape had any reason to hate him.
"There was something he wanted Snape to do with it," Ronnie added.
"That'd be between Dumbledore an' Snape, wouldn' it?" said Hagrid. "Look, yeh shouldn' worry abou' the Mirror. It's all jus' part o' the security precautions fer —" he stopped himself.
"Security precautions?" said Hermione. "Security precautions for what?"
"Nothin'!" said Hagrid hurriedly. "I shouldn'ta said that. Jus' forget I said anythin'. Anyway." he added, in an obvious attempt to change the subject. "Was another reason why I came up here ter see yeh. Got summat here fer yeh, Harry. It's from Dumbledore."
Harry sat up and watched as Hagrid pulled out of his pocket what appeared to be a bundle of silvery-grey cloth. It glittered with a strange shine as he handed it over to Harry, reflecting the light of the windows in a most curious way. Harry took it in his hands and found that it felt strange to touch as well. Most of all, by look and feel, it was as if someone had taken the surface of a pool of water and somehow woven it into this thin cloth.
Ronnie and Neville both gasped.
"Is that —?" said Ronnie in an awed voice.
"It is!" said Neville. "I've seen one of those once! It looked exactly like that one!"
"You've seen one? But they're really rare —"
"What are you two talking about?" said Hermione impatiently. "What is it?"
"It's an Invisibility Cloak!" said Neville. "Isn't it, Hagrid?"
"Where'd you get it?!" said Ronnie, unable to take her eyes off the silvery cloth.
"Dumbledore, like I said," said Hagrid. "According ter him, it used ter belong ter Harry's Dad. Bin in the Potter family fer generations, apparently, sorta like a family heirloom. Still works good as new, though."
Ronnie and Neville looked at the Cloak with awed expressions, and even Hermione seemed to momentarily forget her questioning of Hagrid and leaned forward to get a better look.
Harry felt a certain awe as well as he unfolded the shimmering cloth. A Potter family heirloom... His father had owned this very Cloak. It was the first thing he'd ever held in his hands that he knew had belonged to one of his parents.
Quite apart from the silvery gleam, it was rather plainly made; sewn for durability rather than looks - but then, what did looks matter for a garment that turned you invisible? Harry turned it around a bit and was amazed at how big it was when it was fully unfolded; despite easily folding up small enough to fit comfortably in your average robe pocket, the Cloak had clearly been made for a grown man, and a rather large grown man at that. It might not be big enough to cover, say, Hagrid, but it would probably easily cover Harry himself and any one, possibly even two, of his friends at the same time.
"But if it was my father's," he finally said, "why did Dumbledore have it?"
"Dunno," said Hagrid, and this time his ignorance seemed genuine. "He jus' said that it was righ'fully yers an' he'd had it fer long enough. Seemed ter think yeh migh' need it."
"Try it on, Harry!" Ronnie insisted.
Tentatively, Harry draped the Cloak over his shoulders, to an excited cheer from Ronnie. As he looked down, he saw to his astonishment that his body had become invisible underneath him. The only thing that hinted that he was still there was the slight depression that his body made on the bed underneath him, a depression which shifted slightly even as Harry himself moved.
"That is so cool!" said Ronnie. "I can only see your head — oh, wait, now I can't see that either," she added as Harry pulled the Cloak up over his head.
"A pity there aren't any mirrors here," said Neville, "or you could have seen for yourself. Not seen for yourself, I mean."
"Can you imagine all the things we could do with that Cloak?" said Ronnie, a gleam of mischief in her eyes.
"Whatever it is you're thinking about, stop it right now, Veronica!" Hermione's expression was somewhere between fascinated, concerned and annoyed. "Dumbledore must know all the ways that Cloak can be used to break school rules, and he's obviously showing Harry a great deal of trust by letting him have it, so Harry's not going to break that trust, are you, Harry?" That last part was more a command than a question.
Harry pulled the Cloak down to let his head become visible again. "Er, no, of course not," he said, hoping that Hermione didn't hear the slight hint of disappointment in his voice.
Hagrid beamed. "Knew yeh'd be responsible, Harry!" he said."Great man, Dumbledore... if he thinks yeh'll need it, yeh prolly will. Maybe 'fore yeh even know it."
Harry decided then and there that he would be responsible. Disappointing Dumbledore was one thing, but disappointing Hagrid... that would feel too much like kicking a puppy. (An over-dimensioned, wild-looking brute of a puppy, perhaps, but a puppy nonetheless.)
Just to see the Cloak's effect in action properly, though, he let all his friends try it on. One after another, Neville, Ronnie and Hermione vanished underneath the Cloak - and each time, no matter how much Harry strained his eyes, he couldn't see so much as a contour or a movement. Even Hagrid eventually let Harry talk him into trying on the Cloak, though it was much too small for him, and Potter's Gang all laughed as his upper body vanished underneath the cloak while his lower body remained fully visible.
It was at that precise moment that Madam Pomfrey came in to see what all the fuss was about and let out a startled scream at the sight of the halved Hagrid.
That pretty much ended the fun. Hagrid hurried to pull the cloak of himself, and although Madam Pomfrey's shock at seeing his halved form passed almost immediately, she was rather cross with them all afterwards.
"The hospital wing is not the place for such nonsense," she said sternly.
"Invisibility Cloaks aren't nonsense!" Ronnie protested.
"They are if they're used in the hospital wing!" said Madam Pomfrey. "This is the second time in two days I come in here to see why everyone is making so much noise, only to get a nasty shock! I'm starting to think you're doing this on purpose!"
"Er, 's my fault, really," said Hagrid.
"No, it wasn't!" said Harry hurriedly. "It was my idea!"
Madam Pomfrey shot them both an exasperated glance. "Mister Potter, I don't care whose idea it was, it stops now! And Hagrid..." she turned to him and sighed; the sound of a long-suffering martyr. "Honestly, sometimes you're worse than all the children put together. Do you think you could at least stop encouraging them?!"
"Er, yeah, sorry abou' that," said Hagrid sheepishly. "I prolly got some work ter do anyway." He cast an apologetic glance at Potter's Gang. "I'll talk ter yeh when yeh're out o' the hospital wing, all righ'? Good ter see yeh all again."
After he had left, Potter's Gang made a hasty, but unanimous decision (supported by a very insistent Madam Pomfrey) to postpone further testing of the Invisibility Cloak until after they were released from the hospital wing.
It was a bit of a let-down — but, Harry thought as he carefully rolled the marvellous Cloak up into a bundle and tucked it under his pillow, it was only temporary... And besides, just having the Cloak and knowing it had belonged to his father was a decent consolation price.
There were no further attacks, at least none that Harry ever noticed, but the decision to not abuse the powers of the Invisibility Cloak were sorely tested over the following weeks, thanks to Draco Malfoy and the Trolls.
After being shown up by Harry and got into a fight with Ronnie at their first flying lesson, Malfoy's dislike for them seemed to have grown — though it also seemed like Madam Hooch's reprimand had somewhat startled him and made him decide to change his battle tactics a little. At least, he tended to keep silent and pretend not to notice Potter's Gang whenever he met them and any Prefects or teachers were around. However, after their stay at the hospital wing, Harry did notice that he tended to pass the Trolls an awful lot in the hallway, and always Malfoy would just happen to be in the middle of some story about idiot wizards who thought they could master basic potions and ended up hospitalising themselves and their friends alike.
"I feel so sorry for those who don't have the brains to realise that potions need to be handled with," he'd say. "And I feel even more sorry for their friends. You'd think being friends with such blockheads would be punishment enough, but ending up in comas over it as well..."
Or, another time: "I hear Professor Snape has never let anyone out of detention before. I wonder if he let Potter's Gang out from sheer pity over how pathetic they are, or because he knew they would completely ruin his office if he had them in there for more than one day?"
Or one time, even: "Hey, Goyle, can you guess who I am now?" Followed by holding up an imaginary bottle in each hand and saying in an exaggeratedly dopey voice: "Ooooh, what pretty potions. I wonder what'll happen if I spill them all over the floor and inhale the fumes."
Harry knew that Malfoy was deliberately trying to provoke him, probably goad him into trying to respond or even attack him, so that he could tell the teachers (preferably Snape) and get Harry into more trouble. There was no reason to listen to him, and even less reason to get upset or annoyed over it... and yet, he had to admit, every time he passed the Trolls, Malfoy's comments stung a little harder.
It would be so easy to take out the Invisibility Cloak and use it to teach the Trolls a lesson — nothing huge, just perhaps give them a little scare, nobody need ever find out — but every time he was tempted, he thought about Hagrid being so proud of him for being responsible with the Cloak, and so he resisted the temptation.
There were, after all, plenty of other things to contend himself with. The stay at the hospital wing had put Potter's Gang slightly behind with the schoolwork, and so they had to work a little extra to catch up — but luckily, Hermione had been far ahead of the rest of the class anyway and was an immense help in getting the rest of the Gang through the extra work.
The smartest member of Potter's Gang also spent quite some time in the library doing extensive research on the various mysteries that had shown themselves, trying to find out more about the Mirror of Erised, about potions and immunity to potions... and, of course, about Dark wizards, to see whether she might be able to identify the mysterious attacker and whether Snape was really likely to be Dark. The results of the research were apparently rather meager; when they asked her about it, she would shake her head and say that she was learning a lot, but nothing about what she was looking for.
As for Snape, he spent the next few weeks rather preoccupied and distracted, and as such far less nasty than normal. According to Madam Pomfrey (who still meticulously checked Potter's Gang for potion immunity every few days), he was busy trying to recreate the effects of what he had dubbed the "Immunity Potion." something that seemed to be quite a challenge for him.
Even Potions class (held in a Potions classroom that showed no signs of ever having been trashed, even if the potion ingredients on the shelves were less numerous) was more tolerable. While Snape was still openly favouring the Slytherins, he seemed somewhat half-hearted about it and even passed up several good opportunities to insult or belittle the Gryffindors. When Malfoy, secure in the knowledge that he could get away with it, raised his hand and asked innocently if it wasn't better that Harry be excused for the rest of the lesson because "if he messes this potion up, he might put us all to sleep for three years," Snape barely acknowledged it, simply took five points from Gryffindor out of habit, and continued the lesson.
All the Gryffindors agreed that they vastly preferred this new, preoccupied Snape to the old one, though Harry was fairly certain it wouldn't last.
Between everything that was going on, Potter's Gang were kept quite busy over the next few weeks — and it actually came as a minor shock to Harry to discover that Halloween was coming up and he'd already been at Hogwarts for two whole months.
What was certain, though, was that despite unfortunate elements such as Snape, the Trolls, Filch and the knowledge that someone was out there and probably wanting to kill him, these had been the happiest two months of Harry's life. Hogwarts already felt much more like home than Privet Drive ever had, and if he didn't enjoy universal popularity, most of the students and teachers seemed to like him. (Whether this was because he was the Boy Who Lived, or they liked him as a person, he wasn't so certain about — but after having lived for ten years knowing he'd been unwanted and hated, Harry wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Besides, he knew that Ronnie, Neville and Hermione genuinely liked him, and that was really enough.)
Even lessons were getting more interesting now that they had mastered the basics and could start practicing some actual spells. True, their actual success in doing so varied a lot; Hermione was always the top of the class, while Harry and Ronnie struggled more, and poor Neville tended to either not get any result, or the wrong one.
On Halloween morning, when everyone was excited about the big Halloween feast that would happen when darkness fell, the first-year Gryffindors got a pleasant surprise in the first lesson, which happened to be Charms: The tiny, excitable Professor Flitwick announced that they were ready to start learning the Charm for making objects fly.
"Do you all have your feathers?" Flitwick asked, looking over the class from the stack of books he was standing on in order to be able to see over his desk. "Good! The Levitation Charm is a simple one, but as always, it is best to start small, so we'll be practicing on feathers today —"
"Size matters not," said Dean Thomas in a strange, raspy voice. "Judge me by my size, do you?" A few of the students sniggered, but most of the people in the room, including Flitwick, simply gave him some rather odd looks, causing Dean to sigh: "I need more Muggle-born friends."
Apparently deciding it would be better to bypass this moment without comment, Flitwick continued: "Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing! Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick!" He demonstrated with his own wand. "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!"
There were more laughs at that than there had been at Dean's obscure joke.
The students had been put into pairs; while Ronnie and Hermione had paired up, Harry was with Neville, and though they both swished and flicked the best they could to get their feathers to move, neither of them could lift it even an inch.
None of the other students really managed any better, with the notable exception of Hermione, who with an elegant swish and flick of her wand and a self-assured command of "Wingardium Leviosa!" made the feather she was sharing with Ronnie rise off the desk and hover about four feet above their heads.
"Oh, well done!" Professor Flitwick squeaked. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"
Hermione's success drove the other students to redouble their efforts, though the results varied: Harry eventually managed to get the feather to lift a few inches before it fell down again, but Seamus, who was working with Dean, managed to accidentally set their feather on fire, and Lavender and Parvati both blamed each other when their feather instead of floating turned a shocking shade of pink.
Neville, however, couldn't get the feather to do anything. He swished and flicked; he chanted "Wingardium Leviosa!" again and again, in an increasingly frustrated voice, but the feather remained completely motionless.
Harry felt a twinge of regret for having paired up with Neville himself instead of insisting that Ronnie work with him; the girl had been a great help to Neville when he'd had similar problems during the secret flying lesson and could probably have helped him now as well. But as Ronnie at the moment was far too busy with her own feather to even notice Neville's current plight, it looked like it would be up to Harry.
He took a deep breath, trying to recall just what Ronnie had said to Neville during that flying lesson. "Listen, Neville —"
He didn't get any further, because just then, with a particularly loud "WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" from Neville that seemed to echo around the room, the feather quite unexpectedly rose up in the air and went higher than anyone else's. Neville stared up at it, then at his wand, his face a study in utter, delighted astonishment.
For about five seconds.
Suddenly, his face fell, and he turned around to look at Hermione, who was brandishing her own wand with an awkward look on her face.
"That was you, wasn't it?" he said in a monotone voice.
"You really almost had it," said Hermione, looking for all the world like a small child that had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "I just thought I'd... I mean..."
"Thank you, Hermione," said Neville, and then turned away from her, placed his wand down on the table, and looked down on his hands with an expression of complete devastation.
"No! Neville, I didn't mean — look, I know you can do it on your own, I just —" said Hermione helplessly.
"It's okay. Thank you. I appreciate your help." Neville's voice was dull, and he didn't look up.
For the rest of the lesson, despite Hermione's constantly whispered apologies and Harry's coaxing, he just sat there, never touching his wand or even looking up.
Professor Flitwick looked over at him several times, but didn't say anything. As the lesson ended, though, and the students raised themselves to leave the classroom, the tiny teacher jumped down from his stack of books and walked over to Neville.
"Longbottom," he squeaked. "I wonder if you'd join me for a cup of tea in my office? I have some books on Charms I think you might find helpful — helped me out a great deal when I was a student. Don't worry," he smiled to Harry, Ronnie and Hermione, who had gathered around them. "I won't keep him long. Off you go now!"
It was a somewhat subdued three-quarters of Potter's Gang who made their way down into the crowded corridor. Hermione looked incredibly guilty, and Ronnie, who had developed a bit of a protective instinct towards Neville, wasted no time in letting the other girl know what she thought.
"What'd you go and lift his feather for?" she said. "You know Neville has serious confidence problems! Doing his Levitation Charm for him, that's the same as outright telling him you think he's hopeless!"
"But I don't think he's hopeless," Hermione murmured. "I just thought that if I could make him believe that he'd done it..."
"How can someone be so smart and so stupid at the same time?" said Ronnie, getting seriously worked up. "How could you possibly think he wouldn't notice that it was you, he's not deaf, and that spell wasn't even nonverbal —"
"Don't yell at her," said Harry, trying to calm Ronnie down. "She feels bad enough already. Besides, Professor Flitwick's a decent bloke, I'm sure he can straighten things out."
"Oh. all right," said Ronnie. "But you still owe him an apology, Hermione."
Hermione nodded glumly.
To their surprise, Neville didn't turn up for the next class (though, since this class was History of Magic, Professor Binns didn't even notice that Neville wasn't there), and was mysteriously gone for the rest of the afternoon. He wasn't in the corridors, he wasn't in the Gryffindor common room, and he wasn't in the first-years' dormitory. It was when the time for the Halloween feast came rolling around that the rest of Potter's Gang really began to get worried about him.
The Great Hall looked incredible. The ceiling, usually bewitched to look exactly like the sky outside, now took the appearance of a stormy night sky, lightning flaring every so often. Hundreds of carved pumpkins, each one with a brilliantly-glowing candle in it, were floating above the tables, illuminating the room with a warm, orange glow - while a huge number of black bats flew around high above them, occasionally swooping down a little lower, making the candles in the pumpkins flicker and the shadows dance on the walls. As the students milled in, and the Gryffindors began gathering at the Gryffindor table, Neville was still strangely absent, though Professor Flitwick was cheerfully taking his place at the teacher's table.
"Longbottom's not here?" he said in a surprised voice when Harry went up to ask him about Neville. "Oh, dear, I never meant for him to miss the feast. I lent him a book on Charms, and he said he wanted to go somewhere private to practice his Levitation Charm... I suppose he must have lost track of time. Not to worry, Potter, I'll see if I can't find him."
With that, Flitwick excused himself and slid down from his chair, exiting the Great Hall.
Harry, feeling a little better, went back to the Gryffindor table to take a seat in between Hermione and Ronnie.
When they had all sat down, the feast appeared suddenly on the tables, just like it had during the welcoming banquet. It looked and smelled just as delicious as it had back then, too, and Harry had to take a bit of time to decide what he would try first.
He had just chosen a baked potato, when a sudden sharp noise from the end of the Hall made him look up. Professor Quirrell, whom Harry suddenly realised hadn't been present either, came running in, his turban askew and his face filled with terror.
"Troll!" he cried. (Almost instinctively, Harry's eyes went over to Malfoy and the Trolls at the Slytherin table, but they seemed as surprised as everyone else.) "Troll — in the dungeons!" He stopped in the middle of the hall, stared wildly around himself and then said, in a softer voice: "Thought you ought to know..." before collapsing down onto the floor in a dead faint.
As one, the students raised themselves from the tables, and the room exploded in screams and loud voices. They would all have trampled each other in blind panic in order to get out of the Hall, if Professor Dumbledore, at the teacher's table, hadn't got their attention by raising his wand and sending out several loudly exploding purple firecrackers.
"Prefects," he said, once again the steely, powerful wizard who could command crowds with a simple word. "Lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"
Percy, of course, took the lead at once. "Follow me!" he barked at the Gryffindors. "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!" (It would have been funny if the situation hadn't been so serious.)
Harry made his way in among the other first-years, bustling here and there, trying to follow the Prefects, when Ronnie suddenly grabbed his arm. "Neville!" she said. "Where's Neville?"
"I don't know," said Harry. "Professor Flitwick went to look for him."
"He doesn't know about the troll," said Ronnie. "He could be anywhere in the castle, and the troll might find him, and then -" she couldn't finish the sentence.
Hermione stopped next to them, guilt and fear on her face. "But if Flitwick —"
"Flitwick doesn't know about the troll either!" said Ronnie. "And what if he doesn't find Neville in time?"
"We have to go look for him!" said Harry.
Ronnie nodded. "Just so long as Percy doesn't see us going off."
"But what if the troll finds us?" Hermione's voice had turned shrill.
"It won't," said Harry, patting the robe pocket where he kept his Invisibility Cloak.
Looks of understanding dawned on the two girls' faces.
They all ducked down and joined the Ravenclaws, who were going another way, following them for a bit before taking the first opportunity to break off from the group and slip down a side corridor, where Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak out of his pocket and unfolded it.
It was lucky that the Cloak was so big, because it covered all three of them quite easily — at least if they kept close together. Harry did worry a little that there was no way it would be big enough for four people at once, but, well, they'd just have to deal with that particular problem when they encountered it.
Now covered up and invisible to all, the trio moved down the corridors, trying to think of any place in the castle where Neville might have decided to practice his Charms in peace; an empty classroom, perhaps, or an unused corridor...
It was beginning to dawn on Harry what a hopeless task it was to look for someone in the Hogwarts castle when they had no idea even where to begin looking, and had started seriously questioning if this had been such a good idea after all, when they suddenly heard it - the low, guttural grunting and the low thudding of heavy footsteps.
They stopped and stood perfectly still. At the end of the passage to the right, a huge form appeared with loud, angry grunts and heavy movements. Harry heard Hermione let out a small gasp and felt Ronnie tense up beside him.
The troll was the biggest, ugliest, most frightening thing he had seen in his life. Twelve feet tall, with a grotesquely hulking body, long arms and short legs, and stony-grey skin. The head was small and bald, and constantly twisted around as if looking for something, and in one enormous hand was a gigantic wooden club. As the troll lumbered past them - luckily without seeing them - its awful smell whifted into their nostrils and made their eyes tear up, but they managed to stay silent until it had gone past.
The hideous creature turned, its long ears waggling as if it was trying to make its mind up about something, and then it walked down the left-hand corridor, the dull thuds of its footsteps slowly vanishing.
"I think," Ronnie whispered, slightly out of breath, "I think the troll has left the dungeon."
"I hope it hasn't met Neville," Harry whispered. "He wouldn't stand a chance against that!"
"Neither would we," said Hermione softly. "They're not very smart, but I've read that they're magic-resistant and frightfully strong. I just hope —"
Just then, there was a loud scream from the corridor the troll had vanished down. Harry's stomach turned; he knew that voice all too well.
"That was Neville!" he exclaimed.
Before they even knew it, or had the chance to ask themselves whether this really was a good idea, they were all running towards the sound of the scream. Harry had to clutch the Invisibility Cloak around them to keep it from falling off, something which made the running a little awkward, but the girls didn't seem to care.
There was another scream and a heavy thud. At the end of the corridor, the huge troll had a terrified-looking Neville backed up into a corner, and a mark in the stone wall showed that it had tried to strike the boy with its club, but had missed. Now it was raising its club again, and Neville pressed himself against the wall, looking close to panic.
Still under the Invisibility Cloak, Harry, Ronnie and Hermione skidded to a halt.
"Oy! Pea-brain!" Ronnie called out to the troll.
The troll stopped and slowly turned towards them, an expression of stupid puzzlement on its face as its eyes swiped through the corridor, unable to see the person who had spoken.
"Er, I am your conscience!" said Ronnie, trying to sound stern. "You are a bad troll! It is not nice to go hitting people who are smaller than you, and you should let that poor boy go at once! Remember what your dear old Mum told you about — AIIIEEEE!" The rest of her improvised lecture vanished in a terrified shriek as the troll turned sharply about and began swinging its club wildly, apparently hoping to hit the voice it couldn't see.
The invisible trio could feel the wind from the club as it just barely missed them, and Hermione, who was closest, instinctively pulled back, bumping hard into Ronnie, who reached out and grabbed Harry's robe as she lost her balance. All three of them went over, falling down and ending up in a heap on the floor with Harry on the bottom. The Cloak partially slid off them, enough for the troll to spot their exposed legs on the floor.
Clearly not the type to stop and question why disembodied legs were appearing out of nowhere, the troll gleefully raised its club again.
"WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!"
All of a sudden, the club lifted up and flew out of the troll's hand, floating up towards the ceiling. The troll stopped and looked up, trying to grab for it, but the club had already floated up beyond its reach and was now hovering just underneath the high ceiling.
Harry managed to get to his feet to see Neville stand there with his wand out, looking at the floating club with an expression of awed disbelief, as if he couldn't quite fathom that he'd just pulled off the most powerful Levitation Charm of any first-year.
"Nice going, Neville!" Harry cried — and then wished he hadn't, because this broke Neville's concentration and sent the club plummeting down to the floor.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" came Hermione's voice from beside Harry, and the club stopped in mid-air and shot back up towards the ceiling.
The troll jumped and swung its arms at the club, roaring in frustration as it failed to retrieve its weapon. For the moment, it seemed like the creature had forgotten the children and was focused purely on trying to get the club back.
Realising that this little game of "keep-away" would only keep the troll distracted for so long, Harry rushed past the troll and up to Neville, who was still standing there and looking at the floating club in what looked to be a complete stupor.
"Come on," he said, grabbing the boy's hand and pulling him along. "Run, girls!"
Harry and Neville darted back past the troll, and then they were joined by Hermione in running for their lived down the corridor. A pair of extra running footsteps and a flash of red hair that immediately vanished revealed that Ronnie was joining them as well, but was still under the Invisibility Cloak.
"Get under the Cloak, Harry," her voice panted just next to him. "All of you!"
"No room for all of us under it!" Harry managed to say. "Just run!"
They did, hearing the grunts and roars of the troll behind them. Harry didn't risk turning back to see what it was doing — but now he heard thundering footsteps behind him and knew that with or without the club, the troll had decided to chase after them.
So they ran, barely looking where they were going, rushing up the first staircase they came to. The sound of the thundering footsteps behind them grew slightly fainter, as if the troll couldn't quite keep up, but they didn't dare to slow down.
Not looking where you're going, however, has the unfortunate side-effect of often ending up in places where you really don't want to be — and Potter's Gang, fleeing blindly, suddenly found themselves in a dead end; they'd run into a corridor that ended rather abruptly, finding themselves between the approaching troll and a thick stone wall.
"That door!" Hermione heaved for her breath, pointing at a door at the end of the corridor. "Hurry!"
They ran up to the door, and Harry tore it open, hurrying the others through before going through himself and slamming it shut behind him.
Neville collapsed to the floor, breathing heavily, and Ronnie's head — the only part of her that was visible — slammed against the wall, looking red and almost delirious, before it too vanished under the Invisibility Cloak.
Hermione, however, while looking like she was about to collapse herself, pulled her wand out again and motioned it towards the door. "Colloportus!" she said, almost breathlessly, and the door locked itself with an odd squelching sound. "Locking charm — troll won't — get us now," she panted.
Harry leaned against the wall, breathing out. His heart was racing in his chest and his throat hurt slightly from heaving for his breath, but it was okay now, they were safe.
And then he heard Neville's voice, a terrified, soft squeak. "Oh, no..."
Harry opened his eyes and realised that at once that they weren't safe at all, but had managed to stumble into an even bigger danger.
Right there, in front of them, was the biggest, most monstrous-looking dog he had ever seen. So big that it filled the whole space between ceiling and floor, and with three heads. Three angry-looking, snarling heads with sharp, yellowed, enormous fangs.
The door hadn't led to a room like they'd thought, but to another corridor. To be more precise, it led to a certain third-floor corridor, the very same one that during the welcoming banquet had been declared forbidden by Dumbledore for anyone who didn't "wish to die a very painful death."
Now they knew exactly what he had meant by that.
Two of the dog's heads snarled at them, but the third was looking another way, snapping at something Harry couldn't see, and it was clear that the only reason why it hadn't attacked yet was because it didn't know which direction to attack first.
"N-nice doggie," said Neville, his voice still high-pitched. "Hermione, open the door! Open the door!"
"The troll's on the other side of the door," Hermione panted,.
"Great!" Harry gulped, taking a step back. "Choose your death; clubbed by troll or eaten by monster dog!"
TO BE CONTINUED...
Author's Notes: Another cliffhanger! What will happen next? Well, come next chapter, we'll see if we can find out (I've already started writing chapter eight, so hopefully it should be a shorter wait this time).
Harry's Invisibility Cloak is one of those things that he, and we, perhaps get a little too used to in canon; in the end it's little more than a convenient way of going about unseen. It's all too easy to forget the awe it's treated with in its first appearance, and how rare and valuable even normal Invisibility Cloaks are in the wizarding world. It was fun trying to recreate some of the feeling of almost reverence from a Potter's Gang to whom the Cloak is something completely new and awesome.
Even if things are changing for Harry and friends, the plot that goes on behind the scenes is the same as in canon, and there was no reason to believe Quirrell's Halloween stunt wouldn't still take place - and I knew that if I was going to include the "Troll in the dungeon" scene, I had to include a part where Harry and friends face the troll. And things sort of went from there.