In the days following Harry's aborted duel with Malfoy, he found Hermione avoided him at all costs. It made it easier to abide by Padfoot's request he stay away from what was going on with Grandpere and Voldemort.

Instead, he filled his days with messing about with Neville and Ron and focused on his study of animagic. That was something his family wouldn't mind him learning. He was doing well staying out of trouble in classes. Mostly, he just kept his head down and handing in his essays. The less he talked, the less likely he was to say something that angered his professors.

Of course, most of his professors liked him quite well. He was well ahead of most of the class- save for Hermione (and Neville in Herbology). It seemed like few families- even pureblood ones- taught their children any sort of magic. He and Neville had been taught since they could read. With all Harry knew about the pain the Death Eaters had caused his family, he knew now it was so that he would be able to protect himself.

On the day of Quidditch trials, Harry went down to the pitch to see who was trying out. He still didn't know what he was going to do, but at the very least he could watch the proceedings.

Ron and Neville came with him, walking to the bleachers. Ron was watching Harry intently, while Neville had his nose buried in a book about water plants.

"Come on, Harry," Ron urged him. "Why don't you just try out? What's the harm? You'll be trying out on one of the school brooms. You'll get in on your own merit then."

Harry hesitated. "I don't know. What if they still let me on the team because they know I have a good broom?"

Ron shook his head. "No way it'll happen! If you're really naff they'll turn you down no matter what! But you gotta try , Harry!"

Harry stayed quiet for the next hour as the hopeful Seekers. Wood had released a Snitch and they were trying to track it. Harry kept his eyes trained on the glint of gold. None of the hopefuls were anywhere near finding it.

Finally, he stood up. "This is embarrassing."

Ron cheered loudly as Harry stood up, hopping down each bleacher. He made his way down to the pitch, shoving his hands into the pockets of his robes in an attempt to look casual. He cocked his head slightly as he approached Wood.

Wood grinned broadly. "You're here to try out, aren't you?"

Harry pointed up into the air. "These guys couldn't find a bludger if it flew at their face, let alone a snitch. Even on one of the school brooms I can do better."

Wood picked up a broom and threw it to Harry. "Please. Be my guest. I want to see you fly."

It had been too long since Harry had been on a broom. He mounted the broom and kicked off. He let out a sigh of contentment as he whizzed through the air. He wished he could take more time to enjoy it, but he needed to find the Snitch. He'd lost sight of the Snitch in the time it took to go from the bleachers to the pitch. It would be terribly embarrassing to come up to Wood all full of bravado and then not beat the other hopefuls to the Snitch.

The broom was terrible. It was clumsy and slow, but a fast broom didn't a Seeker make. He needed a keen eye and a fast hand.

Harry scanned the sky, sticking his tongue between his teeth in concentration. He'd always had an affinity with the Snitch. He wasn't really sure where it had come from. His eyesight was poor. Padfoot, Alice and Frank had been Beaters, James and Dora had been a Chasers. But Harry had always been certain he would be a Seeker.

He did a round of the pitch, looking for the small glint of gold. There was a way it played off the light. He knew it could take days in a professional game to find it, but school regulation Snitches were charmed to be found within a few hours. No doubt the evasiveness charms were lessened even further for tryouts. Harry knew he could find it.

One of the other hopefuls dived at another. This caused a chain reaction of all of the hopefuls converging on one spot. Harry saw what had attracted the first's attention. The flier's earring was shining in the light.

The dogpile had the advantage of clearing out the sky. They were all on top of one another. Harry looked around where the other fliers had been. There it was, fluttering not far away from where McLaggen had been.

Harry dove for it. The broom was slow. Even his old broom was faster than this load, let alone the Nimbus 2000. Still, if Harry flattened himself against the handle and threw himself forward he might be able to speed up just a touch...

His fingers wrapped around the struggling ball and he let out a holler of triumph. But he was descending towards the ground so quickly and the broom was so old he was unable to pull himself out of it. With a loud grunt, Harry skidded to the ground. The broom broke underneath him and he landed in a large muddy puddle. Covered head to toe in filth he grinned at Wood and held up the Snitch.

"Well Potter!" Wood clapped. "Knew you had it in you! You're going to have to explain to Madame Hooch what happened to the broom, but I'm sure McGonagall will make sure you don't get into trouble for it. That flying was worth it. Now you've got to see if you can get your Nimbus here."

"I don't know." Harry ruffled his muddy hair. "Maybe I don't want to be unfairly advantaged."

"Kid, come on, if you're going to play and you have the best, you might as well use the best." Wood grinned. "Maybe you won't end up in a puddle next time."

Harry looked down at the snitch still fluttering madly in his mud covered hand. Perhaps Wood had a point. He shook his head and let out a laugh before giving Ron and Neville a thumbs up.

"The Quidditch Cup will have our name on it this year," Wood said happily. "It wouldn't surprise me if you turn out better than Charlie Weasley, and he could have played for England if he hadn't gone off chasing dragons."

Harry smiled widely as JJ and Noriko fought to get into the view of the mirror. "Harry we miss you!" Noriko squealed.

"I miss you too," Harry said with a laugh. "But I've really got to talk to Padfoot now. I promise we'll talk again soon."

Noriko pouted, but allowed JJ to lead her away. JJ pointed at Harry. "And next time you're going to tell me all about Quidditch practice."

"Of course, Jay." Harry sighed deeply as Padfoot appeared once again in the mirror. "Speaking of Quidditch Practice..."

"You really got onto the team?" Padfoot looked skeptical, shaking his head slightly. "First Years never make the House Team. You've got to be the youngest Seeker..."

"In a century," Harry said quickly. "That's what McGonagall told me. Which is actually why I'm contacting you. I've been trying to get McGonagall to let me bring my Nimbus to school. But she says that you have to say yes. I think that means she wants to..."

Padfoot held up a hand to stop Harry as he tried to rush through all the reasons he should be allowed his broom. "Harry, Yuki and I wouldn't have spent all that money on a broom if we didn't want you to use it." He paused, cringing. "Well, she would've. But not me. I'm so proud you've made the team. Of course you can have your broom. If you're going to beat Slytherin, you're going to need the best. We'll send it to you tomorrow morning."

Harry grinned. "Thanks Padfoot!"

"Besides Quidditch, how are things going? Have you made any friends? Have you gotten into a lot of trouble?"

Harry laughed nervously. "Um. Yeah. I mean, of course there's Neville. And the team. There's a boy in my year. Ron. Ron Weasley. I met him on the train."

Padfoot let out a barking laugh. "Weasley. Of course there's one in your year. The Weasleys are good people. Anyone else?"

Harry though for a brief moment about Hermione. But he shook his head. "Not really anyone I can think of."

Harry's Nimbus 2000 arrived at the school via Owl Post with an enthusiastic letter of encouragement from his whole family. Ron, Wood and the twins were eager to get a good look at his birthday present, but Draco complained loudly.

"Why does Black have a broom? First Years aren't allowed to have brooms!"

Harry scowled at Draco. "Why don't you just kiss my—"

"Black!" McGonagall said sharply, rushing up to him. "Allowances will be made for you to use your broom during Quidditch matches, but in order to— ahem— comply with the rules, I have to keep it with the school brooms unless you are practicing or playing a game."

Harry wanted to put up a fight, but he knew the rules were already been bent for him. He didn't want to test things further than that.

Besides, they had practice three times a week. He would still have plenty of time to get out on his broom.

With the combination of practice and classes, Harry couldn't believe it when Halloween was suddenly upon them.

He was never sure how he felt about Halloween. It was the day his parents were killed. But if that had never happened he wouldn't have ended up with his family.

He thought it best not to dwell on it and instead focused on his lessons. Flitwick was teaching them flying charms. They'd been looking forward to it since he'd performed one on Scabbers.

Flitwick paired them all off. Harry grinned at Neville as they were grouped together. But he felt a pang of sympathy at Ron being stuck with Hermione. She'd been keeping her distance ever since flying class, where Harry had scraped with Malfoy.

"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."

Harry lazily swished and flicked his wand, getting the feather to tremble slightly. Neville took his turn and the feather did an odd sort of flip, but neither could get it fully into the air.

"You're saying it wrong!" Hermione snapped at Ron. "It's Wing- gar- dium Levi- o- sa. Make the 'gar' nice and long."

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

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

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

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

Harry rolled his eyes and looked back at Hermione. "Now do you think you can do it without being such a swot?"

Hermione looked as if he'd stuck her. "What?"

He swished and flicked his wand. "Wingardium Leviosa." His feather flew into the air. He looked back over his shoulder again. "So now I get to act insufferable, right?"

Hermione shrank down. "I was just telling Ron how to do it right."

"Harry..." Said Neville warningly.

Harry sighed and shrugged his shoulders, giving up on riling up Hermione. It didn't seem worth it to risk getting in trouble with Flitwick.

On the way out of class, Ron caught up with Harry and Neville. "She's a nightmare! I don't know how you've been able to work with her! You must really want that research done!"

Harry shrugged and laughed, not noticing the figure run hurriedly past him.

Ron shook his head. "Does she think you're actually her friend?"

He got through his classes and decided to exert some of his remaining energy working out. His mornings had been taken over by Quidditch, so he didn't always get to do Maho Budo before classes. He was starting to slip. By the time he was finished his exercises, the Halloween Feast had started.

Harry ran towards the Great Hall, but slowed when he heard a noise coming from the girl's lavatory.

It was crying. Someone was crying in the lavatory. He knocked on the door with his bokken. "Hello? Who's in there? Are you all right?" Padfoot and Moony had taught him never to leave a lady crying.

"Go away!" The quivering voice called out of the bathroom.

Harry knew that voice, but he'd never seen it so sad before. "Hermione?"

He opened the door to the lavatory and walked in. Hermione was sitting on the floor, a loo roll clutched in her hands. She tore off pieces to wipe her wet eyes. "Go away, Harry!" Hermione sniffled.

Harry shook his head. "That seems very unlikely." He sat down on the floor next to her.

"This is the girl's bathroom!" Hermione protested.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "And you are always the first to point out I'm not good at following the rules. I'm not going to leave you in here crying."

"Why do you even care?" Hermione asked woefully, curling up on herself. "Ron's right. I'm not your friend. I don't have any friends. You're just around me because you need my help."

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but he was having trouble coming up with a response. Ron hadn't entirely been wrong. He'd been using Hermione for her research abilities. He hadn't given much thought to being around her just for fun. Of course, they had very different ideas of fun. "I..." Harry started. "I don't dislike you. Maybe I was... Taking advantage of you... A bit... At first."

Hermione shrank down further.

"But it wasn't bad doing research with you! It was..." Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I liked it."

Hermione looked up, blinking at him, clearing away some of her tears. "You're just saying that so I'll stop crying."

Harry shook his head. "I don't really say things I don't mean. And I don't waste my time being around people I don't like."

Hermione sniffled. "But you're always making fun of me."

Harry had the good nature to look ashamed at that. He grimaced, shrinking down "Yeah... Well... It's kind of funny when you get all mad."

Hermione huffed out a breath.

"Not bad funny," Harry rushed out. He shrugged his shoulders. "You're cute when you're mad."

Hermione face was now crimson. "Cute?"

Harry nodded. Padfoot always talked about how Kachan was cute when she was mad. Padfoot had told him how James and Lily had squabbled all of the time because James had liked to rile her up.

Harry scooted forward and tilted his head, leaning in and pressing his lips quickly to Hermione's mouth. He pulled back after a moment.

Well, Hermione had stopped crying. She was staring at him with shocked, wide eyed. She brought her hand up to touch her mouth. "Why did you do that?"

Harry smiled, shrugging his shoulders. "Because I've never done it before? It seemed like the thing to do?"

Hermione's cheeks were about as red as Harry had ever seen someone get before. "I've never done that either."

Harry's smile widened. "Well, now neither of us can say that."

Hermione blinked at him, unmoving. She looked uncertain what to do in light of this new development. "So you tease me because you want me to be your girlfriend?"

Harry hadn't really thought that far. Mostly, he'd just thought that at that moment, he kind of wanted to kiss Hermione Granger. He smiled softly at her. "How about for now... We just go with friends?" He held out his hand to her.

Hermione hesitated, looking at his offered hand. "And you think Ron is going to be all right with that?"

"Ron can get used to it." Harry insisted, stretching out his hand further.

Hermione took a hold of Harry's hand. She shook it, a grin breaking out on her face as she shook his hand.

"Now..." Harry pulled himself to his feet, taking Hermione with him. "Come on. We can still make it to the feast in time for-"

Then he heard the lurching of the door. It swung open, a gigantic troll lumbering into the bathroom. He threw out an arm, shielding Hermione with his body as they body yelled in horror.

The troll only took notice of them at the sound of their yells. It swung its large club. Harry grabbed Hermione, throwing them out of the way as the stalls shattered with the impact of the club.

"How did it get in here?" Hermione cried, panicked.

"I don't know," Harry panted. He looked around, to see what he could use to their advantage. "But it's blocking the door."

He pulled himself away from Hermione. "I'm going to try to draw it away from the door. Once the door is clear, run. Go find a professor."

"But what are you going to do?" Hermione asked, panicked.

Harry took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "Try to distract it."

Harry was reminded of the night Hagrid had come to their home and Kachan had taken him down. Only, Kachan was bigger than he was (just barely and he was still growing). Hagrid was also smaller than a mountain troll.

If he were alone, he'd be able to get away cleanly. He could maneuver dangerous situations. But he couldn't abandon Hermione. He reached into his pocket and took out a dungbomb. He wished he had something with a bit more sound in order to get the troll's attention, but he had to make do. He nodded at Hermione. "When you see your change, run."

Harry threw the dungbomb to the right. The small pop and the smell caused the troll to look where it had landed (not that the troll smelled much better). Harry waved his hand for Hermione to leave.

She was almost at the door when it swung open. "Hermione doesn't know about the troll," Ron said as he entered.

"Ron, no!" Harry cried as the troll turned back to the opening door to see Hermione. He swung his club. Harry sprinted across the lavatory and met the club with his bokken. But the troll was much stronger than him and he was sent flying into one of the stalls.

"Harry!" Neville shouted in horror.

"Get out!" Harry struggled to his feet. His whole body was wracked with pain. But he needed to keep going. He needed to protect Hermione, Ron and Neville.

The troll swung his club around, knocking sinks off the wall, causing water to spurt out of the broken pipes.

"Get out of here!" Harry shouted, ignoring the pain. He then noticed one of the broken pipes had come loose from both the wall and the sink. He grabbed it up and smashed his across the troll's knee. The troll roared and leaned down to grab his injured knee. Harry took the opportunity to smash it across the jaw.

The troll grabbed Harry by the back of his robes and yanked him up. The troll brought up his club, ready to strike Harry. If that club made contact with his head, Harry would be a goner.

"Do something!" Hermione cried, frozen in terror.

Ron raised his wand and before the troll could bring down his club, he shouted. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The club flew up into the air and landed on top of the troll's head with a sickening crack. The troll swayed and fell to the ground. Harry had to roll to get away, so the weight of the unconscious troll didn't fall on him.

"Is it dead?" Neville asked.

"He's breathing," Harry wheezed, grabbing his sore ribs. "He's just knocked out."

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked Harry. "You're hurt."

"It's my ribs." Harry leaned against her as she held him up. "I think I broke two of them. And my ankle is turned. I think some other things."

"That was very brave of you," Hermione said, smiling at him. "And also very stupid."

"I wasn't going to let you get hurt." Harry wheezed. He looked to Ron and Neville. "You two came in here to save Hermione."

"You did?" Hermione blinked in shock at Ron. "You came to save me?"

"Neville and I didn't want you to get hurt." Ron's ears turned bright red.

There was the sound of frantic footsteps and the door opened. McGonagall, Snape and Quirrell entered the destroyed bathroom.

Quirrell watched the troll, a panicked look on his face. Snape was examining the troll closely.

"What on earth is going on in here?" McGonagall demanded. "What were you four thinking?"

"I..." Hermione started.

"Hermione and I were training together," Harry interrupted her. "When we were going to the feast, we saw the troll and we came in here to hide from it."

"And Mister Weasley and Mister Longbottom?" McGonagall looked to Ron and Neville.

"They came looking for us," Hermione said quickly. "If they hadn't found us, we've probably be dead."

"As it is, Mister Potter looks half dead," Snape drawled.

"It took me by surprise." Harry ignored the blatantly incorrect nomenclature, too sore to argue with Snape. "But I'm okay."

"Mister Black, get to the hospital wing," McGonagall insisted. "Miss Granger, Mister Weasley, Mister Longbottom... Go to Gryffindor Tower. The students are finishing the feast in their houses."

Hermione, Ron and Neville scampered towards the door. "Oh... And not many First-Years could have taken on a fully grown mountain troll. Five points to Gryffindor. Each."

"Professor, can we take Harry to the Hospital Wing," Neville asked. "Safety in numbers?"

McGonagall waved at them to go ahead. Ron and Hermione took each side of Harry, helping him along. "We got twenty points for Gryffindor."

Harry smiled painfully. "I think I'd rather have my ribs all in one piece."

They all looked between each other. Something felt right in that moment. Despite the pain, Harry was happy in that moment. He smiled at Ron, Neville and Hermione in turn.

From that moment on, things were going to be different. Hermione was going to be a part of their group. There were some things you couldn't do without becoming friends. Fighting a mountain troll was one of them.

Of course, Harry would have to figure out exactly what had happened between him and Hermione before that troll had attacked. He hadn't had many girl friends, but he was fairly certain you weren't supposed to kiss them randomly. He probably needed to speak to Padfoot. If anyone could help him with girl problems, it was his godfather.