Hey everyone, welcome to today's new chapter. Haven't got a lot to say one this chapter (which is a change from yesterday :D ) apart from look out to see how Jay helps save Hermione by the troll. Good reading and see you tomorrow.

– CHAPTER TEN –

Halloween

Malfoy couldn't believe his eyes when he saw that Harry, Jay and Ron were still at Hogwarts the next day, looking tired but perfectly cheerful. Indeed, by the next morning Harry, Jay and Ron thought that meeting the three-headed dog had been an excellent adventure and they were quite keen to have another one. In the meantime, Harry and Jay filled Ron in about the package that seemed to have been moved from Gringotts to Hogwarts, and they spent a lot of time wondering what could possibly need such heavy protection.

"It's either really valuable or really dangerous," said Ron.

"Or both," said Harry.

But as all they knew for sure about the mysterious object was that it was about two inches long, they didn't have much chance of guessing what it was without further clues.

Neither Neville nor Hermione showed the slightest interest in what lay underneath the dog and the trapdoor. All Neville cared about was never going near the dog again.

Hermione was now refusing to speak to Harry, Jay and Ron, but she was such a bossy know-it-all that they all saw this as an added bonus. All they really wanted now was a way of getting back at Malfoy, and to their great delight, just such a thing arrived with the post about a week later.

As the owls flooded into the Great Hall as usual, everyone's attention was caught at once by a long thin package carried by six large screech owls. Harry was just as interested as everyone else to see what was in this large parcel and was amazed when the owls soared down and dropped it right in front of him, knocking his bacon to the floor. They had hardly fluttered out of the way when another owl dropped a letter on top of the parcel.

Harry ripped open the letter first, which was lucky, because it said:

DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE.

It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch pitch at seven o'clock for your first training lesson.

Professor M. McGonagall

Harry had difficulty hiding his glee as he handing the note to Ron and Jay to read.

"A Nimbus Two Thousand!" Ron moaned enviously. "I've never even touched one."

They left the hall quickly, wanting to unwrap the broomstick in private before their first lesson, but halfway across the Entrance Hall they found the way upstairs barred by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy sieved the package from Harry and felt it.

"That's a broomstick," he said, throwing it back to Harry with a mixture of jealousy and spite on his face. "You'll be in for it this, Potter, first years aren't allowed them."

Ron couldn't resist it.

"It's not any old broomstick," he said, "It's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?" Ron grinned at Harry and Jay. "Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus."

"What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle," Malfoy snapped back. "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig."

Before Ron could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow.

"Not arguing, I hope, boy?" he squeaked.

"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," said Malfoy quickly.

"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?"

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir," said Harry, fighting not to laugh at the look of horror on Malfoy's face. "And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it," he added.

Harry, Jay and Ron headed upstairs smothering their laughter at Malfoy's obvious rage and

confusion.

"Well, it's true," Harry chortled as they reached the top of the marble staircase, "If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall I wouldn't be on the team …"

"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" came an angry voice from behind them. Hermione was stomping up the stairs looking disapprovingly at the package in Harry's hand.

"And here comes the nagger," said Jay

"I thought you weren't speaking to us?" said Harry.

"Yes, don't stop now;" said Ron, "it's doing us so much good."

Hermione marched away with her nose in the air.

Harry had a lot of trouble keeping his mind on his lessons that day. It kept wondering up to the dormitory where his new broomstick was lying under his bed, or straying off to the Quidditch pitch where he'd be learning to play that night. He bolted down his dinner that evening without noticing what he was eating and then rushed upstairs with Jay and Ron to unwrap the Nimbus Two Thousand at last.

"Wow," Ron sighed, as the broomstick rolled on to Harry's bedspread.

Even Harry and Jay, who knew nothing about the different brooms, thought it looked wonderful. 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.

As seven o'clock drew nearer, Harry left the castle and set off towards the Quidditch pitch in the dusk. He'd never been inside the stadium before. Hundreds of seats were raised in stands around the pitch so that the spectators were high enough to see what was going on. At either end of the pitch were three golden poles with hoops on the end. They reminded Harry of the little plastic sticks Muggles children blew bubbles through, except that they were fifty feet high.

Too eager to fly again to wait for Wood, Harry mounted his broomstick and kicked off from the ground. What a feeling – he swooped in and out of the goal posts and then sped up and down the pitch. The Nimbus Two Thousand turned wherever he wanted at his lightest touch.

"Hey, Potter, come down!"

Oliver Wood had arrived. He was carrying a large wooden crate under his arm. Harry landed next to him.

"Very nice," said Wood, his eyes glinting. "I see what McGonagall meant … you really are a natural. I'm just going to teach you the rules this evening, and then you'll be joining team practice three times a week."

He opened the crate. Inside were four different-sized balls.

"Right," said Wood. "Now, Quidditch is easy enough to understand, even if it's no too easy to play. There are seven players on each side. Three of them are called Chaser."

"Three Chasers," Harry repeated, as Wood took out a bright-red ball about the size of a football.

"This ball's called the Quaffle," said Wood. "The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try and get it though one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops. Follow me?"

"The Chasers throw the Quaffle and put it though the hoops to score," Harry recited. "So – that's sort of like basketball on broomsticks with six hoops, isn't it?"

"What's basketball?" said Wood curiously.

"Never mind," said Harry quickly.

"Now, there's another player on each side who's called the Keeper – I'm Keeper for Gryffindor. I have to fly around our hoops and stop the other team from scoring."

"Three Chasers, one Keeper," said Harry, who was determined to remember it all. "And they play with the Quaffle. Ok got that. So what are they for?" He pointed at three balls left inside the box.

"I'll show you now," said Wood. "Take this."

He handed Harry a small club, a bit like a rounders bat.

"I'm going to show you what the Bludgers do," Wood said. "These two are the Bludgers."

He showed Harry two identical balls, jet black and slightly smaller than the red Quaffle. Harry noticed that they seemed to be straining to escape the stapes holding them inside the box.

"Stand back," Wood warned Harry. He bent down and freed one of the Bludgers.

At once, the black ball raised high in the air and then pelted straight at Harry's face. Harry swung at it with the bat to stop it breaking his nose and sent it zigzagging away into the air – it zoomed around their heads and then shot at Wood, who dived on top of it and managed to pin it to the ground.

"See?" Wood panted, forcing the struggling Bludger back into the crate and strapping it down safely. "The Bludgers rocket around trying to knock players off their brooms. That's why you have two Beater on each team – the Weasley twins are ours – it's their job to protect their side from the Bludgers and try and knock them towards the other team. So – think you've got all that?"

"Three Chasers try and score with the Quaffle; the Keeper guards the goal post; the Beaters keep the Bludgers away from their team," Harry reeled off.

"Very good," said Wood.

"Er – have Bludgers ever killed anyone?" Harry asked, hoping he sounded off hand.

"Never at Hogwarts. We've had a couple of broken jaws but nothing worse than that. Now, the last member of the team is the Seeker. That's you. And you don't have to worry about the Quaffle or the Bludgers –"

"– unless they crake my head open."

"Don't worry, the Weasleys are more than a match for the Bludgers – I mean, they're like a pair of human Bludgers themselves."

Wood reached into the crate and took out the fourth and last ball. Compared to the Quaffle and the Bludgers, it was tiny, about the size of a large walnut. It was bright gold and had little fluttering wings.

"This," said Wood, "is the Golden Snitch, and it's the most important ball of the lot. It's very hard to catch because it's so fast and difficult to see. It's the Seeker's job to catch it. You've got to weave in and out of the Chasers, Beaters, Bludgers and the Quaffle to get it before the other team's Seeker, because whichever Seeker catches the Snitch wins his team an extra hundred and fifty points, so they nearly always win. That's why Seekers get fouled so much. A game of Quidditch only ends when the Snitch in caught, so it can go on for ages – I think the record is three months, they had to keep bringing on substitutes so the players could get some sleep.

"Well, that's it – any questions?"

Harry shook his head. He understood what he had to do alright; it was doing it that was going to be the problem.

"We won't practice with the Snitch yet," said Wood, carefully shutting it back inside the crate, "it's to dark, we might lose it. Let's try you out with a few of these."

He pulled a bag of ordinary golf balls out of his pocket and a few minutes later, he and Harry were up in the air, Wood throwing the golf balls as hard as he could in every direction for Harry to catch.

Harry didn't miss a single one, and Wood was delighted. After half an hour, night had really fallen and they couldn't carry on.

"That Quidditch cup will have our name on it this year," said Wood happily as they trudged back up to that castle. "I wouldn't be surprised if you turn out better than Charlie Weasley, and he could have played for England if he hadn't gone off chasing dragons."

Perhaps it was because they were now so busy, what with all their homework, and Harry now having Quidditch practice three evenings a week that it was such a surprise when the two brothers found out they already been at Hogwarts two months. The castle felt more like home than Privet Drive had ever done. And their lessons, too, were becoming more and more interesting now hat they had mastered the basics.

On Halloween morning they woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. Even better, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly, something they had all been dying to try since they'd seen him make Neville's toad zoom around the classroom. Professor Flitwick put the class into pairs to practice. Harry's partner was Seamus Finnigan, which was a lot better then Jay's partner: Neville. Ron, however, got stuck with the worst of the worst, Hermione Granger. It was hard to tell whether Ron or Hermione was angrier about this. She hadn't spoken to any of them since the day Harry's broomstick had arrived.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. 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."

It was very difficult. Harry and Seamus swished and flicked, but the feather they were supposed to be sending skywards just lay on the desktop. Seamus got so impatient that he prodded it with his wand and set fire to it – Harry had to put it out with his hat.

Ron, at the next table, wasn't having much more luck.

"Wingardium Leviosar!" he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill.

"No, stop, stop, stop! You're going to take someone's eye out," Harry heard Hermione snap. "Besides, you're saying it wrong. It's Leviosa, not Leviosar."

"You do it, then, if you're so cleaver," Ron snarled.

Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand and said "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.

"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"

Hermione shot a look of triumph at Jay, who hadn't even attempted to do it yet. But he took that as a sign.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

Jay's feather raised about five feet in the air.

"Oh, and look, Jay's got it too! Well done both of you, ten points to Gryffindor each," squeaked Professor Flitwick.

Hermione looked furiously at Jay because his feather had gone higher then hers. But it was nothing compared to Ron; he was looking murderous and at the end of the class, he started going off at her.

"It's Leviosa," he said to Harry and Jay as they pushed their way into the crowded corridor, "not Leviosar. She's a nightmare, honestly. No wonder she hasn't got any friends."

Someone knocked into Harry as they hurried past him. It was Hermione. Harry caught a glimpse of her face – and was startled to see that she was in tears.

"Was she crying?" Jay asked, biting his lip.

"Who cares?" said Ron, but he looked a bit uncomfortable. "She must've noticed she's got no friends."

Hermione didn't turn up for the next class and wasn't seen all afternoon. On their way down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, Harry, Jay and Ron overheard Parvati Patil telling her friend Lavender that Hermione was crying in the girl's toilets and wanted to be left alone. Ron looked still more awkward at this, but a moment later they had entered the Great Hall, where the Halloween decoration put Hermione out of their minds.

A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over the table in low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter. The feast appeared suddenly on the golden plates, as it had at the start of term banquet.

Harry was just helping himself to a jacket potato when Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew, terror on his face and screaming: "Troll in the dungeons! Troll in the dungeons – thought you ought to know."

He then sank to the floor in a dead faint.

There was uproar. Everyone was screaming and getting up from their chairs, running towards the exit.

"SILENCE!" Dumbledore yelled. Everyone stopped dead and turned to face the High Table. "Everyone will please not panic! Now, prefects will lead their House back to the dormitories. Teachers will follow me to the dungeons."

Percy was in his element.

"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!"

"How could a troll get in?" Harry asked as they climbed the stairs.

"Don't ask me, they're supposed to be really stupid," said Ron. "Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke."

They passed different groups of people hurrying in different direction. As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, Jay suddenly grabbed Harry and Ron's arm.

"Hermione?"

"What about her?" said Ron.

"She doesn't know about the troll," answered Harry.

Ron bit his lip.

"Oh, all right," he snapped. "But Percy had better not see us."

Ducking down, they joined the Hufflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corridor and hurried off towards the girl's toilets. They had just turned the corner when they heard quick footsteps behind them.

"Percy!" hissed Ron, pulling Harry and Jay behind a large stone griffin.

Peering around it, however, they saw not Percy but Snape. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from view.

"What's he doing?" Harry whispered. "Why isn't he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?"

"Search me."

Quietly as possible, they crept along the next corridor after Snape's fading footsteps.

"He's heading for the third floor," Harry said, but Ron held up his hand.

"Can you smell something?"

Harry and Jay sniffed and a foul stench reached their nostrils, a mixture of old socks and the kind of public toilet no one seems to clean.

And then they heard it – a low grunting and the shuffling footfalls of gigantic feet. Ron pointed – at the end of a passage to the left, something huge was moving towards them. They shrank into the shadows and watched as it emerged into a patch of moonlight.

It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite grey, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was incredible. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long.

The troll stopped next to a doorway and peered inside. It waggled its long ears, making up its tiny mind, and then slouched slowly into the room.

"The key's in the lock," Harry muttered. "We could lock it in."

"Good idea," said Ron nervously.

"Go for," said Jay.

They edged towards the open door; mouths dry, praying the troll wasn't about to come out of it. With one great leap, Harry managed to grab the key, slam the door and lock it.

"Yes!"

Flushed with their victory they started to run back up the passage, but as they reached the corridor they heard something that made their hearts stop – a high, petrified scream – and it was coming from the chamber they'd just chained up.

"Oh, no," said Ron, pale as the Bloody Baron.

"It's the girls' toilet!" Harry gasped

"Hermione!" cried Jay as he ran full bolt down the corridor they had just come up.

It was the last thing they wanted to do, but what choice did they have? Harry and Ron wheeled around and started after Jay. Jay got to the door, unlocked it and pulled the door wide open and ran inside, Harry and Ron followed.

Hermione Granger was lying on the floor under pieces of wood from the toilet blocks the troll had smashed.

"Hermione move!" yelled Harry.

Hermione began to crawl away from the troll and towards the far end wall. The troll smashed the remaining toilet blocks.

"Help!" cried Hermione.

"Confuse it!" Harry said desperately to Jay and Ron. They seized up pieces of wood from the floor and stared to throw it at the troll. The troll didn't feel the pieces of wood hitting him but he did however, hear Ron shout out, pea brain.

The troll hesitated for a bit. This was Hermione's chance. She ran past the troll and hid under the sinks. The troll let out a great howl. He turned back to Hermione who was now trapped under the sinks. He raised his club, about to go down on Hermione.

"NO!" cried Jay. He leaped forwards and pushed Hermione out of the way just as the troll brought down his club.

WAM!

There was an ear-bursting crunch and a cry of pain. The troll had brought his club right down on Jay's leg. It raised its club again.

"Oy, pea-brain!" yelled Ron again, from the other side of the chamber, and threw a metal pipe at it. The troll didn't even seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly snout towards Ron instead, giving Harry time to run around it.

"Jay, you alright?" Harry cried

"Yeah, it just really, really trickles. Just get Hermione out of here, I will be fine."

"Come on, Hermione lets go!" said Harry turning to Hermione, trying to pull her towards the door, but she couldn't move, she was sitting flat against the wall, looking horror stuck at Jay.

"He just saved my life."

"No I didn't, go with Harry! Go on I'll be fine!" shouted Jay.

The shouting and the echoes seemed to be driving the troll berserk. It roared again and started towards Ron, who was nearest and had no way to escape. The troll was rising its club then Harry then did something that was both very brave and very stupid: he took a great running jump and managed to grab hold of the troll's club. He fell down on to his neck. The troll, now so confused, started swinging and moving all about, making it hard for Harry to stay up. He tried to grab on to something but in the confusion Harry stunk his wand up its nose. Now even a troll will notice if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose.

Howling in pain, the troll twisted and flailed its club, with Harry clinging on for dear life. Then the troll got hold of Harry's ankle and ripped him off his back with his free hand. He raised his club at Harry and swung. Harry lifted up just before the club broke his skill in half.

"Do something!" Harry cried at Ron.

"What?" said Ron looking around for an idea.

"Anything!" said Harry as the troll swung his club again. Harry felt the club just nick his head. He couldn't keep this up.

Hermione was still lying on floor in fright, Jay was acing in pain from his leg; Ron pulled out his own wand – not knowing what he was going to do he heard himself cry the first spell that came into his head: "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The club flew suddenly out of the troll's hand, raised high, high up into the air, turned slowly over – and dropped, with a sickening crack, on to its owner's head. The troll dropped Harry and started swayed on the spot. Harry quickly backed away just as it fell flat on its face; right onto the spot Harry had been dropped. It made a thud that made the whole room tremble.

Harry got to his feet. He was shaking and out of breath. Ron was standing there with his wand still raised, staring at what he done.

It was Hermione was spoke first.

"Are – are you ok, Jay."

"Oh, yeah it's fine; I get hit by troll's club every day," he groaned. "Oh, I just want to die."

Harry and Hermione gave a smile.

"Is the troll – dead?" asked Hermione.

"I don't think so," said Harry. "I think it's just been knocked out."

He bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll's nose. It was coved in what looked like lumpy grey glue.

"Urgh – troll bogies."

He wiped it on the troll's trousers.

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the four of them look up. They hadn't realised what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll's roars. A moment later, Professor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape and Quirrell was bring up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart.

Snape bent over the troll. Professor McGonagall was looking at Ron and Harry. Harry hadever seen her look so angry. Her lips were white. Hopes of winning fifty points for Gryffindor faded quickly from Harry's mind.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. Harry looked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't in your dormitory?"

Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look. Harry looked at the floor. He wished Ron would put his wand down.

Then a small voice came out of the shadows.

"Please, Professor McGonagall, It's my fault – they were looking for me."

"Miss Granger!"

Hermione had managed to get to her feet at last but she still stayed at Jay's side.

"I went looking for the troll because I – I thought I could deal with it on my own – you know, because

I've read all about them."

Ron dropped his wand. Hermione Granger, telling a downright lie to a teacher?

"If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club but if Jay hadn't dived in front of its club when it was coming down on me …"

"Lots of pain!" cried Jay from the corner.

"They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived."

Harry, Jay and Ron tried to look as though this story wasn't new to them.

"Well – in that case …" said Professor McGonagall, staring at the four of them. "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, I expected more rational behaviour on your part and I'm very disappointed in you."

Hermione hung her head. Harry was speechless. Hermione was the last person to do anything against the rules, and here she was, pretending she had, to get them out of trouble. It was as if Snape had started handing out sweets.

"Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for your serious lack of judgment," said Professor McGonagall. "If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their Houses."

Hermione left.

McGonagall turned to Jay

"Now how bad is that leg, Jay?"

"I don't think theirs a bone left. Oh no, I'm never going too able to walk again. My live is over. I'm doomed!"

"Now it can't be that bad."

Professor McGonagall bent over Jay's smashed leg. "You're lucky, it's not that bad." She pointed her wand over his leg and said: "Episkey," a bright light came out from her wand. A sense of relieve came over Jay's face.

"That feels much better thanks," Jay got up and stood on his healed leg.

"You're very lucky it wasn't worst. You're all very lucky things didn't end up worst, not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll and lived to tell the tale. You win Gryffindor twenty points for your sheer dumb luck. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go." They hurried out of the chamber and didn't speak until they had climbed two floors up. It was a relief to be away from the smell of the troll, quite from anything else.

"We should have got more than twenty points," Ron grumbled.

"Fifteen, you mean, once she's taken off Hermione's"

"Good of her to get us out of trouble like that," Ron admitted. "Mind you, we did save her."

"She might not have needed saving if we hadn't locked the thing in with her," Harry reminded him.

"Yeah but don't tell her that, she will kill us," added Jay.

They had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Pig snout," they said and entered.

The common room was packed and noisy. Everyone was eating the food that had been sent up. Hermione, however, stood alone by the door, waiting for them. There was a very embarrassing pause, then.

"Thanks, for you know, saving me back there," Hermione said to the ground.

"Thanks, for getting us out of trouble," said Ron.

"And Jay …" she said looking up at him.

"Hey don't stress it," said Jay clapping her on the back. "What are friends for?"