Author's Note:

Thank you all so much for your follows, favs, and reviews. I replied to every one that popped up in my inbox, so I'm very sorry if I missed you somehow. You're all so awesome, you don't even know.

This isn't the longest chapter I've written for this story (I think), but it's definitely the most interesting in my opinion. Let me know what you think.

I received two very interesting guest reviews. One had absolutely nothing to do with my story but seemed to imply that my Voldemort was a good guy and therefore my story was garbage. I never said Voldemort would be a good guy here. In fact, I really don't support his actions … you'll see. The other reviewer commented on how unoriginal my story is. I know this. There are only so many ways this type of story can go, and almost all types have already been written. I never promised this would be totally original. I only said I have interesting ideas for later. I went into this knowing this and not caring. I'm writing something I'd like to read, and if that's not totally original, so be it. (I'm also wondering how the anonymous reviewer managed to make it all the way to the end before commenting.) Just in case anyone else was wondering these same things, those are my answers.

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, we would have watched Umbridge die a horrible death caused by half-breeds. (Please excuse my slightly violent streak right now. I'm having fun; that's all that matters.)

Chapter Eight

Harry followed McGonagall back up to the school in silence. She lead him down hallways and through doors and tapestries. He was composed on the outside, but his mind was on a frantic race. What would happen to him?

The possibility of his expulsion existed, small though it was. He'd hate to have to rely on Dumbledore to stay at Hogwarts, but he would if it came down to it. However, it was very likely that the Headmaster would overlook this for the sake of keeping the Boy-Who-Lived close so he could better guide and watch over him. But just because expulsion was out of the question, that didn't mean Harry would get off without punishment. No, he'd probably be stuck in detention for the rest of his life, he thought miserably. Why not? Then Dumbledore would know where his precious savior was at all times.

But McGonagall didn't seem to be leading Harry to the Headmaster's office. In fact, they had just entered the Charms corridor. Harry allowed a small bubble of hope to blossom in his chest as she knocked on a door, then poked her head in. "May I borrow Wood for a moment?"

At this, Harry's heart leapt. If she was looking for Gryffindor's Quidditch captain, chances are he wouldn't be punished, but instead rewarded for his little stunt.

Sure enough, upon finding an empty classroom, McGonagall and Wood worked out Harry's position as Seeker on Gryffindor's Quidditch team. McGonagall liked him more than he'd thought, Harry realized. After all, when it came to school rules she was the strictest teacher at Hogwarts (except for Snape, perhaps, but he only followed rules when admonishing Harry).

… … …

Malfoy looked absolutely terrified when Harry saw him at dinner that night. Between telling his friends about his "punishment" in a low whisper, he made eye contact with the blond and gestured subtly towards the doors to the Great Hall.

Harry hung back at the Gryffindor table when the meal was over, telling Ron that he'd be up to the common room in a moment; he just had to check something with McGonagall. Ron shrugged and left, calling over his shoulder that he'd be in the common room. Hermione had already left for the library, having already understood that the evening was Ron's time with Harry.

After Ron vanished up the first staircase, Harry made his way to the corner of the Entrance Hall where he'd first talked with Malfoy.

The Slytherin was already waiting there when Harry arrived, and he was alone. He still looked terrified, he noted. Perhaps Malfoy Junior had been more serious about that offer of friendship than Harry had thought. Or maybe the blond was just terrified of him, he thought with a grin.

"I didn't get expelled," Harry said as soon as he was within earshot of his public enemy.

Immediately, Malfoy relaxed. Harry let him be for a moment. Then, pressing his lips in a tight line, he added, "but I'm not happy with you. At all."

Immediately, Malfoy's tension returned.

"You have got to learn to act," Harry added harshly. "I don't think you understand how serious this is. I understand that you're just trying to help, but you're actually making it worse. What do you think Dumbledore will do when he sees you being friendly with me?" After a moment's hesitation, he added, "you don't know. And neither do I. But whatever he'd do, it would significantly decrease the chances of me safely and discretely joining our lord when he returns. Would you like to be the one to tell him that your actions are responsible for the only person he couldn't kill teaming up with his enemy?"

If possible, Malfoy's face went even paler. "I-I-I'm sorry, I wasn't thi—"

"No, you weren't," Harry cut across him in a deadly calm voice. "But you will now, won't you?"

Malfoy nodded vigorously. In that moment, he thought, Harry had no idea how much he resembled the Dark Lord. His father had shown him pensieve memories of the man so he'd be prepared for the inevitable day when he would return. Malfoy had been terrified just watching them, but it was nothing compared to his terror now. When Harry spoke in anger, his focus was fixed entirely on Malfoy. It made him feel exposed, like the boy knew all that he was and could be and was judging him for it in that instant and finding him lacking.

Then it was over. Harry turned without another word and crossed the Entrance Hall to ascend the staircase. Behind him, Malfoy slumped in the corner where he'd been left, as if Harry and his unnerving gaze had been the puppeteer, and he'd just cut the strings.

… … …

After the first week, Ron had caught onto Harry's unspoken schedule of studying with Hermione, going to dinner, then spending time with Ron and doing whatever caught their fancy on that particular evening. This schedule was disrupted by the Quidditch practices that took place a few times a week, but the three friends were quick to adapt.

Before they knew it, it was the end of October. Harry woke on Hallowe'en morning to the smell of candy and cooking pumpkin.

That day, Flitwick finally allowed them to attempt the Levitation Charm. They'd been working on it on and off for the last two months, and the professor was confident that they could all perform it if they put their minds to it.

Unfortunately, he hadn't taken Ron and Hermione into account.

Without Harry and Hermione to guide him, Ron had done very little of his homework. As such, he hadn't perfected the pronunciation and wand movement as nearly everyone else had. And as he tried to perform the charm, Hermione had to make a comment. "You're doing it all wrong. It's—oh, just watch me." She rolled up her sleeves, picked up her wand, and cleared her throat. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Ron glared as, on her first try, the feather floated gently into the air. He glared even harder when Flitwick was delighted by her success, awarding five points to Gryffindor.

Harry watched it all play out from across the room. As soon as the diminutive professor had paired those two together, Harry knew that something was bound to go wrong. Ron was biding his time, Harry knew. As much as the ginger wanted to tell Hermione off, he didn't want to do it in front of Flitwick and get in trouble.

Sure enough, as soon as they left the room—

"Did you see that, Harry?" Ron said loudly. "She's mental! How you can stand her is beyond me. She didn't even let me try properly."

"Honestly, Ronald, you would have been successful if you'd done your homework like Harry and I," Hermione huffed, brushing past the ginger. Her eyes flicked to Harry looking for confirmation, but he just shook his head as if to say, "let it go."

But the damage was done. "You only focus on your homework so much because you have no friends," Ron spat back. "I bet Harry's just using you so he can do well in class." He shot a look in Harry's direction as if to ask for support, and Harry cringed away. He knew this would happen eventually, Harry thought furiously. It was only a matter of time until he was stuck in the middle of one of their fights. Until now he'd been able to break them up if they were serious or let them have at it if they weren't.

Before Harry had the chance to do his usual damage control, Hermione picked up her pace and was immediately lost in the crowd.

… … …

Hermione was not in the rest of her classes that day. He was concerned on the outside, but inside he was mentally strangling his mandatory friend and kicking himself. Ron had ruined the only decent friendship Harry had. And Harry had let him.

Fortunately though, Harry knew where Hermione was—Lavender Brown had told him she was in the girls' washroom on the second floor and refused to come out. If he still didn't see her at the Hallowe'en feast, he'd check on her on the way back up to the common room, he decided.

Unfortunately, this did not happen the way Harry was hoping. And this is why:

"Troll—Troll in the dungeons. Thought you ought to know." And Quirrell, their ever-so-brave Defense Professor, fell into a dead faint in front of the staff table, leaving the Hallowe'en Feast in chaos.

Dumbledore gave the order for prefects to lead their houses to the common areas, but Harry's mind was focused on something else. "Hermione," Harry gasped, looking at Ron with wide eyes.

"So? What about her?"

Harry seethed at Ron's nonchalant attitude. "So, she doesn't know about the troll, idiot," he snarled. "She's crying in the bathroom right now thanks to you." Harry felt better when guilt flashed across the ginger's face.

When Ron made to follow Harry out of the group of first years, Harry was astonished. Upon seeing Harry's flabbergasted expression, Ron just shrugged. "It was my fault," he said uncomfortably. I should at least go tell her with you."

So off they went.

In all the chaos, it was easier than expected to sneak away from the others. At one point they had to hide behind a tapestry to avoid the Ravenclaws, but once they were gone the two boys were free to sprint to the girls' bathroom as fast as their legs could take them.

They had two corridors to go when a horrible smell hit Harry. He immediately covered his mouth and nose, but the smell of sweat, mold and decay wouldn't go away that easily. They slowed to a cautious walk, and Harry peaked around the corner into the corridor that held the girls' bathroom.

Looks like the troll made its way out of the dungeons, was Harry's only thought. The twelve-foot-tall creature was making its slow, clumsy way down the corridor towards them, dragging a club behind it as it came.

In that moment, Ron called Hermione's name. Harry could only watch on, helpless to the events that were about to play out. The ginger had just gotten the troll's attention, and its sight was now focused on them. However, in the next moment, Hermione called out from within the bathroom, and the twelve-foot-tall creature turned once again.

As the troll stomped heavily through the bathroom door, Harry froze in panic.

Tom's memories hadn't prepared him for this. The Dark Lord had faced many a dangerous situation, but Harry had watched as he'd dealt with the issue in a calm, efficient manner. Why had Harry thought he could do the same? He'd never been able to feel Tom's emotions during the memories. Was this debilitating panic normal? He had no idea. Worse, he had no idea how to break out of it. His brain was sending desperate signals to his body to move. He had to get closer—he couldn't do anything to help from here. But no matter how hard he tried, his body remained as immobile as the suits of armor lining the corridor.

It was only Ron's slap across the face that snapped Harry out of it. The adrenaline had built and built, and as soon as Harry had control of his body, it all burst from him at once. Before Ron knew what had happened, Harry was gone—down the hall, through the bathroom door, around the troll, and towards the corner where Hermione was huddled in terror. He positioned his body in front of her like a shield.

Thankfully, Ron caught up fast. "Hey idiot!" he yelled from the bathroom door. The troll's attention turned to the ginger, who ducked out of sight.

Now Harry's mind was working on overdrive. He'd thought he'd have a lot of time to practice spells that he knew in theory thanks to Tom. But it appeared time had run out. So he performed the only spell he knew. "Wingardium Leviosa!" He shouted desperately. Then, acting purely on instinct, he pointed his wand at the troll's club and sent the larger end bashing into its head over and over.

Upon consulting Tom's memories later that night, he'd learn that he'd just used an advanced version of the Levitation Charm that wasn't usually taught until sixth year. But in that moment, as the troll collapsed to the ground, Harry could only be grateful that Ron hadn't explicitly seen his little improvisation. Hermione probably had, but he could deal with her later.

"My goodness!" A female voice gasped at the door.

Harry looked up in terror. How much had she seen.

But McGonagall wasn't looking at just Harry—she was looking at all three of them. And her expression was shifting between cold shock and steaming anger. And she wasn't alone—Snape and Quirrell stood behind her, the former sharing her displeasure and the latter looking faint again.

Harry's first reaction was relief.

His second was a renewed sense of terror, though this one did not freeze his limbs in the same way. He hadn't been expelled the first time he'd broken the rules, but he definitely would be now.

"Why aren't you in your common room?" she demanded.

"Professor—I—we—" Harry stammered.

"It was my fault, Professor McGonagall."

Harry whipped around, startled at the voice from behind him. It was Hermione. He struggled to keep the shock from showing on his face.

"I read all about trolls," she continued miserably, "so when I heard about it, I thought I could deal with it myself." She lowered her head.

"That was very, very foolish, Ms. Granger. It is difficult for a fully-trained wizard to deal with a mountain troll, let alone a first year! I am very disappointed. I expected better of you. I will have to take ten points from Gryffindor for this."

Hermione's head dropped farther.

"However, somehow you three did deal with the situation," McGonagall continued. "And for that, you will each be awarded ten points."

It was only in that moment that Harry saw Ron standing beside the Transfiguration professor looking pleased with himself. Harry felt the same. These were some of the first points he'd earned for his house. Sure, the professors should have been here first and dealt with the troll by themselves. Harry shouldn't have had any hand in its death. But he had, and they'd been too late. But thanks to this situation, he was beginning to realize that he wasn't nearly as ready to join Tom as he'd thought. Thankfully he'd realized it before it was too late.