Chapter Ten: Troll Bogies and Dog Bites
As we entered the washroom, Hermione let out another scream from somewhere amongst the ugly turquoise wooden stalls just as the Troll swung it's club sideways in the air, smashing half of them to pieces. Dropping Harry's hand, I bent over, trying to spot Hermione through the Troll's legs, amongst the pieces of wood. Sure enough, I spotted her bushy brown hair and robes pushing through the debris just as the Troll raised its club again. "Hermione, get out of there!" Again it swung sideways and Hermione yelped, crawling as fast as possible under the door and into the next stall, repeatedly trying to avoid the damage. I rounded on Harry and Ron. "We've got to help her!"
"Come on then!" Ron exclaimed, stepping forward and grabbing a piece of wood from the debris, chucking it at the Troll. It hit one of its many rolls of fat and simple bounced off, not even catching the creature's attention. Harry picked up a bigger piece of wood, tossing it as well. Hoping to distract the ugly monstrosity from my best friend who was yelling for our help, I reached for a piece of nasty-looking pipe amongst the wreckage, weighing it in my hand. It felt a lot heavier than the wood. I grinned, nudging Ron and passing it to him. "My throwing is awful," I explained and he nodded, looking up at the Troll.
"Hey, pea brain!" he yelled, throwing the pipe as hard as he could. It turned towards the noise and the pipe smacked it square in the face, eliciting a tiny howl. Whether or not it was out of pain or not, I couldn't tell, because I was instead focused on the girl crawling away from the stalls and across the washroom towards the sink. What is she doing? There's far less cover there!
"Hermione!" I called, but quickly realized my mistake as the Troll looked back, noticed she had moved, and cried out in rage, swinging its club into the air. "Move!" And she did, just in time, shifting over a sink before the club shattered the one she had been under, causing her to scream. My shaking had returned. "Oh, we've got to do something!" I pleaded, grabbing Harry's arm frantically.
His eyes found mine a moment before he nodded, tightening his grip on his wand and stepping forward just as the Troll swung the club back, at the ready. He ran forward, reaching out, and grabbed the club, swinging forward with it. Ron and I could hear Harry curse as it flung him forward, where he landed on the Troll's shoulders, the club dropping just short of Hermione. "Bloody hell," said Ron. Once the Troll noticed, it began to thrash around and it was evident we'd have to save two of us now instead of just Hermione.
I pointed my wand forth at the Troll and…nothing came to mind. My mind went entirely blank at seeing how bad my hands were shaking, my wand quivering. "Oh, Merlin, I haven't a clue what to…" Even my voice failed me as the Troll grabbed Harry and hung him upside down by his feet, curiously observing him, as if trying to figure out where he had come from and why he was on his back. But, of course, as Ron had mentioned, Trolls are stupid. He raised his club into the air and Ron stepped forward, bringing up his wand. I noticed that he, too, was shaking, but not as horribly as I was. His gaze flickered to Hermione a moment, who made the swish-and-flick motion from Charms with her hand, mouthing the words to him, and I saw the slight nod of his head.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" The club flew right out of the Troll's grip, who still swung its arm down to crush Harry. When nothing hit him, however, the Troll frowned, grunted, and looked at its empty hand, completely puzzled.
"Ron…," I whispered, nudging his arm, but he stayed put, his wand pointed at the club suspended above the Troll's head in mid-air. Any moment now it was going to notice and then it'd all be over. I nudged him again as the Troll looked upwards, grunting as it spotted the club. "Ron…"
"I…I…" Wonderful, he was frozen. Rolling my eyes, I did the only thing I could think of—I took a step forward and slammed my foot down upon his. He yelped in pain, lost complete concentration, and the club dropped like a rock, slamming into the Troll's face. "Bloody hell, Elena! Why'd you have to—"
But he stopped as the Troll let out a groan of pain, dropped Harry, who rolled towards us, just barely making it to our feet before the large monstrous thing collapsed, its club rolling away from it as it thumped onto the ground. "Sorry about your foot," I told Ron, who was staring at the Troll in awe. He waved a hand my way, telling me not to worry, eliciting a smile from me.
"Is it…is it dead?" a tiny voice asked, and I looked over to see Hermione crawling out from under the sink, covered in dust, eyes wide as she stared at the Troll. She stood, wiped off her robes, and turned to me. It took me only a moment before I launched myself at her, hugging her tightly. Behind me, the boys were making disgusted noises about something, but all that mattered to me was the girl in front of me, safe and sound.
"This is why you should've bloody listened to me and come down to dinner!" I scolded, my eyes moist and I heard her sniffle an apology.
There was more movement behind us, the shuffling of feet, and someone's loud gasp caused me to turn. There Professors McGonagall, Snape and Quirrell stood, all looking shocked, their eyes trailing from the Troll to the boys. Snape's, however, found me, and I suddenly felt uncomfortable. "Explain yourselves, the both of you!" McGonagall said, piercing gaze upon Harry, who was holding a wand covered in disgusting greenish-yellow goo, and Ron, who was still holding his foot.
"Well, what happened is…," they both began, but Hermione stepped past me, raising her chin.
"It's my fault, Professor McGonagall," she stated, and I stared at her, shocked, as did McGonagall.
"Hermione, what are you—?" but she cut me off, taking another step forward.
"I went looking for it after I heard. I've read about them, you see, and decided I could handle it. I was wrong, clearly. If Elena and the boys hadn't shown up—" and here, it was like McGonagall had noticed my presence for the first time, Snape's eyes still locked on me "—I'd probably be dead about now."
"That was an incredibly foolish thing to do," McGonagall told her, continuing on about how disappointed she was. Ha, if only she knew! There stood my best friend, lying to a teacher. "Five points shall be deducted from Gryffindor for your lack of judgment, Miss Granger."
Funny, because it really didn't look like Hermione minded. Her Head of House rounded on the boys next, telling them they were darn lucky to have survived. "Five points—" and here, we all grimaced, expecting the worst "—will be awarded to each of you, for sheer dumb luck." Their faces lit up, and Harry and Ron high-fived one another, while a soft smile broke out on Hermione lips, and I could feel one tugging at my lips as well.
Professor Snape stopped that when he cleared his throat and spoke my name. "Miss Sinistra." Uh-oh, what had I done now? "Did you assist Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley?"
I nodded and McGonagall clapped her hands together, looking to me. "That's right! I'd almost forgotten. My apologies, Elena. Five points to Slytherin as well." She smiled at me, her eyes twinkling, before turning away, her green robes billowing behind her as she left the bathroom. Giving me one last glance, Professor Snape followed, but Quirrell remained, staring down at the Troll.
"P-Perhaps you should g-go, c-children," he stuttered, taking a step away from the Troll. "M-might wake."
Nodding, I grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her along, Harry and Ron following as we hurried past Professor Quirrell, wanting to be as far away as possible from this place now.
"So…," Harry began as we shuffled away from the second floor washroom, towards the stairs. "Good of you to get us out of trouble like that."
"We did save her life," Ron pointed out matter-of-factly, and I rolled my eyes as we stopped at the staircase, grouping together.
"Which, may I remind you, wouldn't of needed saving if you hadn't insulted her in the first place," I reminded him, causing his cheeks to redden.
"Well, um, what are friends for, right?" he looked up, from me to Hermione, who broke out into an ecstatic grin, causing Harry to chuckle.
"You mean it?" she asked.
"Definitely," Harry nodded, elbowing Ron. "Ron was just being a git before."
"I'm sorry," he frowned, shuffling his feet a little, his cheeks quickly beginning to match his red hair. "I was going to tell you earlier but—"
"You skipped dinner, yes, and with this Troll business I wasn't able to get you leftovers!" I exclaimed, remembering my earlier promise. "What rotten luck." I crossed my arms in a huff.
And just like that, we all broke into laughter, and I got the feeling that maybe—maybe everything was going to be alright now.
"Glad to see everyone's safe and sound this morning," Tracey commented, falling into step beside me, heading for the Quidditch Pitch. The first match of the season was today, with our House against Gryffindor.
"And friends," I added. "Apparently nearly being crushed to death by a Troll brings people together."
"Amongst those foolish enough to seek such trouble," a voice snidely remarked, and we turned to see Professor Snape coming towards us, scowling and…was he limping? My eyes trailed to his right leg, which seemed to be causing his limp, and his mildly torn robes. Odd, it almost looked as if… "Miss Sinistra?"
"Y-Yes?" My eyes snapped back up to meet his.
"I see you find yourself in the company of your own House today.
"You're talking about the Troll business. Hermione's my friend. I had to go find her."
He seemed to make a disappointed sound before turning his gaze towards the Quidditch Pitch. "I expect you'll be cheering for Slytherin today, yes? Even if they are playing your friend's House." His black eyes came back around to find mine, and a chill ran down my spine. I agreed, nodding my head, afraid to tell him different. And with that, he was gone, limping away, towards the Pitch.
"That was…odd," Tracy gulped. "I wonder why he's limping."
"I have a fair idea, actually," I stated, catching sight of Hermione, Ron and Harry, who was dressed in his Gryffindor Quidditch Robes, making for the game. "C'mon!"
Breaking into a jog, we caught up to the trio, calling their names. "Elena, Tracy," Hermione smiled. "Coming to watch the match?"
As Tracy nodded, I turned to Harry. "Have you seen Snape this morning?"
"Yes, he sort of wished me luck at breakfast, though I expect it was sarcastic. Why? Have you seen his—"
"Limping? Yes. I was wondering if you thought it might be because he tried to get past the dog."
"Dog?" Tracy frowned, confused, as I hadn't yet told her about the three-headed dog they'd described to me. Hermione gave her a sheepish grin.
"Not you too," Ron groaned, looking at me. "Harry was going on about it at breakfast. He's convinced Snape let out the Troll as a diversion to get past the dog."
"What dog?"
"That's what came to mind when I saw him limping this morning, and his robes are torn," I nodded. "As if the dog had torn at them, perhaps."
"What dog are you talking about?"
"I have a valid reason!" Harry explained. "Elena, the day I was at Gringotts, Hagrid took something out of one of the vaults. Said it was Hogwarts business, very secret. It must be what the dog's guarding."
"Guys. What dog?"
The four of us turned to see a very flustered Tracy standing there, arms crossed, tapping her foot impatiently, and we all chuckled nervously. While the boys exchanged looks, I pulled her closer to us, dropping my voice. "You know how Dumbledore said that one Third Floor corridor was forbidden?" When she nodded, I continued. "Well, it's because behind the locked door is a giant three-headed dog."
"WHAT?"
"That was Elena's reaction too," Ron chuckled, and Hermione elbowed him, quieting him.
"How did you come across…I mean, it's forbidden and…you think Professor Snape…," she stammered, completely unable to speak coherently. "I'm confused."
Before any of us could respond, music began playing from the Quidditch Pitch, and someone called Harry's name. We turned to see a tall brown-haired boy in Gryffindor Quidditch robes waving for him, a broom in hand. "That's Oliver," Harry explained. "I've got to go. We'll look into this later."
"Shall we find a seat?" Hermione asked, watching Harry run off to catch up to the taller boy, Oliver, his Nimbus 2000 clutched tightly in his hand. "Or…would it be better if you sat with the Slytherins?"
"And have Pansy berate me all game long about why I'm not sitting with my 'precious little Gryffindors'?" I snorted. "No way."
"I don't care where we sit, so long as you three are explaining everything," Tracy declared, arms still crossed, and Hermione and I laughed, nodding our heads and following Ron towards the stands.