Some days later, after the new term had started, Donna was sitting in the common room with a slight frown on her face. She'd just played (and lost) a game of Exploding Snap with Dean and Seamus, but after she'd wiped the soot off her face, she'd realised the time.

And the fact that one of her friends was not here. Well, two of them, but Harry was having Quidditch training again – Wood was going crazy preparing for the next match.

"Hey, Hermione, do you know where Neville is?"

Her friend looked up as if only just noticing the absence – not surprising, considering how deeply she'd been engrossed in her book.

"He went to the library earlier, I think."

"Wouldn't he have been back by now though? He doesn't usually stay out quite so near to curfew."

"Hmm, you're right. I didn't realise how late it was."

"I'm gonna go look for him. If he just lost track of time, no harm no foul. If something happened..."

"I'll come with, hold up."

Together, the two girls slipped out of the portrait hole and walked the quickest route to the library. They had not gone far when they found their wayward friend, hopping oddly towards them. When he saw them, he seemed to sag with relief.

"Thank Merlin! I thought I'd have to hop all the way to the common room."

"Neville! What happened?" Donna asked, while Hermione countered the Leglocking jinx that had been cast on him.

"Malfoy. He ambushed me outside the library, said he needed to practice. Who better than the near squib?"

Donna could tell he was near tears but trying to put a brave face on. She wanted to tell him it was ok to cry, but she didn't think that would be well received. She couldn't wait for the time when it was ok for boys and men to have emotions, although she knew much would have to happen first.

Instead, she put her arm over his shoulder as they walked back to Gryffindor tower. "Oh, Neville. Don't listen to Malfoy and his goons."

"Yeah," Hermione added, "you're worth twelve of him."

"I was still the leglocked sucker. I tried to do one of those shield charms we briefly saw in defense, but it was so weak his jinx cut right through it."

By this time they'd reached the portrait and could climb back inside.

"Here's an idea," Donna said. "How about we find another empty room, the castle is bound to have more of them, and arrange it into a sparring room? I wanted to practice some shield charms myself, and maybe learn some extra jinxes, just to be able to defend myself. If magic is like any other skill, practice makes perfect. Besides, there's only one way to get Malfoy to back off, and that's to show him you can bite back."

Hermione cast her a reproachful look. "Or you could go and talk to professor McGonagall, Neville. She can put a stop to him."

Donna snorted. "No, she can't. All that will do is make him twice as vicious, and extra careful to not get caught. Or, well," she looked at Neville, "you can if you want to, Nev, just don't expect complaining to help in any way."

Neville nodded grimly. "I'm not going to McGonagall. I just need to get better."

***DNMCY1***

Soon after that incident, it was time for the first Quidditch match of the new term. Gryffindor was flying against Hufflepuff, and the game was refereed by Snape, of all people. They weren't sure what to think about this development. Snape didn't strike any of them as particularly Quidditch-minded, so -someone- had done their best to make him referee. The problem was they were still unsure who'd been jinxing Harry's broom, and so they had to be prepared for every eventuality. In the end, they could do little more than arm themselves with the jinxes they'd been teaching themselves to get back at Malfoy, and to keep their eyes peeled.

They'd hardly sat down on the Quidditch stands when Neville suddenly ducked, grabbing his head.

"Oh, sorry, Longbottom, didn't see you there," an unwelcome voice said. When Donna looked behind them, she saw Malfoy grinning at his two gorillas like he'd just said something witty. She rolled her eyes.

Malfoy loudly asked how long Harry would stay on his broom this time. Donna wondered if he even realised he was joking about a student falling to his death. Probably not.

The blond didn't get the reaction he was obviously craving, so he moved his insults to the rest of the team, and finally to Neville, who had enough. He turned around with a reddish tinge on his cheeks.

"I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy."

Malfoy howled with laughter, but Donna bumped her shoulder against Neville's to let him know she had his back, even if she was still focussed on the game to make sure nothing happened to Harry.

"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than the Weasleys, and that's saying something."

Well, that wouldn't do. A quick glance told Donna that Hermione still had her eyes firmly on the game, so she felt safe to give her attention to the altercation. She turned around.

"And yet he has more real friends than you will ever have in your life. Huh, I guess money can't buy everything."

Malfoy sputtered in a way that almost made her giggle.

"I have friends!" he finally managed.

"Sure you do," she said in her best condescending voice, "and their friendship has nothing at all to do with daddy dearest's name or money."

When Malfoy didn't have an immediate come-back to that, she sighed. "Look, Malfoy... did you come here to taunt us because your favourite person is up in the air or were you rooting for Gryffindor?"

Malfoy drew himself up with an offended air. "I am NOT rooting for Gryffindor!"

She considered pointing out that he didn't deny Harry being his favourite person, but settled for, "Why are you in the Gryffindor stands then?"

Malfoy grumbled but subsided a little. Soon enough, though, his smirk returned, and he turned to Neville again.

"So tell me, Longbottom, which of your parents is the reason you're such a squib? Your dad was one of us, so it must have been your mum, right? How close to a mudblood was she?"

Neville turned suddenly pale and eerily calm. Donna thought she could see in his countenance the beginnings of the man he would one day become, if his spirit wasn't crushed before then. He stood up, straightened his robes, and looked straight at Malfoy, with none of the cringing fear the blond boy had come to expect.

"Never. Ever. Insult my mother again," he said, and before Malfoy knew what was happening, he drew back his fist and hit him on the nose. Donna whooped, right around the same time that all the stands erupted in cheers. Hermione was yelling something about Harry having seen the snitch, and Donna turned back to the game just in time to see his hand close around the fluttering little ball.

Donna grinned and pumped her fist in the air, before turning back to the more immediate threat.

Malfoy was standing with his hand covering his nose, which was dripping blood, a wide-eyed look of disbelief etched on his face. Crabbe and Goyle were cracking their knuckles, but by this time Dean had noticed something was going on, and he and Seamus were coming up, as well as Parvati and Lavender. Hermione, who could finally relax her vigilance a bit now that the game was over, turned around as well. In the face of those odds, the goons didn't dare attack.

"You hid be!" Malfoy said a lot less pretentiously than his normal speech. He sounded the same way he looked, as if he couldn't believe anyone could dare raise a hand to his person. "When by fader..." he started, but Donna interrupted him.

"Did he?" she asked with a flinty look.

Malfoy blinked. "Wha'? Ov course he did, you saw hib! By nose is bleeding!"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "I've got a stand full of people here who could swear no such thing ever happened. Nosebleeds do start without a visible cause sometimes, and you know it was right around the time Harry caught the snitch, the excitement must have simply overwhelmed you." She batted her eyelashes in a mockery of innocence, then she adopted his trademark smirk against him. "Care to find out just how low on daddy's list of priorities your schoolyard brawl is?"

That finally convinced Malfoy to retreat, presumably to the infirmary, leaving the Gryffindors to celebrate their victory. Harry was carried around on their shoulders, a dazed but happy look on his face. Even the Hufflepuffs came up to congratulate him, with many pointed comments about fairness and fair play. Sounded like they hadn't appreciated their referee of the day giving them penalties for spurious reasons.

By the time the party had moved to the common room, they'd lost Harry somewhere. He was probably changing out of his Quidditch gear, but it took longer than expected for him to make his appearance. Hermione was just gaining momentum in her worrying when he appeared.

"Where have you been?" she shrieked.

Donna grabbed her shoulder, and mimed turning down the volume. Hermione laughed sheepishly and blushed a little. "Sorry," she said at a more normal volume.

Neville was grinning at Harry. "Well done, mate, good catch."

Donna snorted and poked his shoulder. "God, you're like the quintessential Brit, Nev. Stiff upper lip, what. Tell him what you did!"

Neville's grin grew, if possible, even wider. "I socked Malfoy right on the face! Gave him a bloody nose!"

Harry guffawed. "Ha! Way to go mate, wish I could have seen it! Anyway, you'll never guess what I overheard. Can we go to the Couch Room?"

Hermione shook her head. "Too close to curfew. You know professor Snape will be out for blood after that game."

"Right, and Nev and I can't come up to your dorm," Harry said.

"No, but we can come up to yours," Donna decided. "Best do that now, while the party is in full swing."

Once up in the dorm, Harry explained that he'd seen Snape going into the forest, and when he'd followed, he'd heard him talk to Quirrell. When he reported the conversation, Donna frowned. "So... Snape was threatening Quirrell?"

Harry nodded.

"Ok. So who's the bad guy here? What do we know for sure? Hermione, do you have a pen and paper in that bag of yours? Silly question, of course you do. Alright, let's list everything we're sure of, and then we can write a second list with conjectures."

Hermione rummaged through her bag and came up with the desired items. "Alright, certainties first."

Harry was the first to answer. "The third floor corridor is guarded by a Cerberus named Fluffy."

"Right," Neville continued, "and it's guarding the Philosopher's Stone."

"Better put that under conjecture," Donna told Hermione, who was scribbling away. "We're fairly sure, but we haven't actually seen it."

There was a moment of silence, then Neville said, "there was definitely a troll loose during Halloween, which might or might not be related."

"Yes, and Harry's broom got jinxed during his first game, which involved professors Snape and Quirrell in some capacity," Hermione added, without pausing her writing. "Again, it might or might not be related, but better to add it, I think."

"And now this threat that I overheard," Harry said.

Donna nodded thoughtfully, tapping a finger against her leg. "That does seem to indicate Snape and Quirrell are on opposite sides, corroborated by our own conjecture that in the case of Harry's broom, one of them was jinxing it and the other was counterjinxing. What do we have in the conjecture column?"

Other than the Philosopher's Stone, they added the possible extra guards; since Fluffy was standing over a trapdoor, they didn't know what else might be down there.

Someone must have let the troll in during Halloween, but whether that someone had been Snape or Quirrell, there was no knowing without more proof.

It all depeneded on whether Quirrell was the poor, victimless defense teacher standing between the dungeon bat and his prize, or whether Snape was the misunderstood anti-hero and Quirrell a really good actor.

"There's not much point going on until we have more information," Donna said when they'd gone back and forth on the topic several times. "Lets go down for the rest of the party, tomorrow we can discuss how to find evidence one way or the other."

The suggestion was met with approval, and together they went down again for another round of butterbeer.