QLFC Round 3 - Isn't It Gothic

Prompt: Frankenstein by Mary Shelley: Write about an action or event that has major consequences.

Warnings: Slightly OOC!Harry, Character Death (just mentioned), Super Annoyed Ron (not meant to be bashing! I like Ron, I swear.)

Comment: I do not own Harry Potter. The sentence "Thought you ought to know," he muttered softly just before his eyes rolled back and his legs collapsed underneath him. is my own, however, the dialogue (here put in italics to highlight it) is taken from the book HP and The Philosopher's Stone and does not belong to me.)

Word count: 2886

Betas: S L Blake, Wellwick

Trust Your Instincts

He should never have listened. He should have gone with his gut, but he hadn't. And now Hermione was dead.

*~*HP*~*

He still couldn't quite fathom that this was all real; the talking paintings, the moving staircases, the magic in the air. Sometimes it was so prominent that he could taste it; tangy, tingling, sweet, and yet different for everyone.

After over a month of living in the castle, his brain hadn't caught up with everything that had happened just yet. It still felt like a dream wandering through the massive school, robes billowing with every step and the now familiar weight of his wand in his pocket. The schoolbooks were so different from what he had been used to and so were the teachers. Strict and full of knowledge.

He inhaled deeply as he stepped out of the portrait hole that day. It had turned into a habit of his, one way he could use to appreciate the magic floating all around him. He honestly wasn't sure whether anyone else could smell magic like he could, but he couldn't think of a reason why not. Sure, nobody ever mentioned it before, but then again most of his classmates grew up knowing about magic, so it might be normal for them.

"Don't you have somewhere to be, young man?"

Harry jumped and whirled around. The Fat Lady looked at him, one eyebrow raised, and a stern expression on her painted face. Would he ever get used to objects talking to him? He honestly doubted it.

"Sorry," he mumbled softly as his cheeks darkened slightly at having been caught just standing around doing nothing. He felt as if he didn't belong here anyway, as if this was only a dream and he'd wake up any second now. He hated being reminded of it.

He pulled on the straps of his backpack, securing it tightly, before hurrying down the hall to breakfast.

*~*HP*~*

"I really don't know what her problem is," Ron muttered sourly and stuffed one whole sausage into his mouth, chewing loudly. "Can't she just mind her own business?"

"Just ignore her, Ron." Seamus was one of their dormitory mates. Harry quite liked him.

"I can't do that, can I? If she's always around looking glum, glaring at me from across the room."

"You only know she's looking your way because you keep looking her way," Dean, another one of his dorm mates, said. "For all you know, she's just annoyed that you keep glaring at her."

"Nah, mate, she hates me."

Harry didn't quite know what to say to that. Honestly speaking, he preferred to just not say anything when the other boys were discussing whatever the topic was at the moment. He felt like he shouldn't really share his opinion. It was a thing the Dursleys had successfully ingrained in his brain. He'd never really noticed it until he had come to Hogwarts. He knew it wasn't healthy behaving like that, but he couldn't help himself. He really didn't want to say something wrong. He'd never had friends before and he didn't want to risk losing them when he'd just got them.

"What do you think, Harry?"

Harry blinked and gazed up at Dean, who was looking at him expectantly. His stomach started churning with anxiety as the other two turned to him as well. He didn't like the way they were looking at him. Scratch that; he didn't like the way anyone in the wizarding world looked at him. It was as if he had the solution for every single problem, as if he knew what to do, and if he were to just breathe a word, everyone in the community would jump to their feet and do as he said. He didn't like it. It made him anxious.

"Hate is a very strong word," he said softly, hoping for all that it's worth that his answer was passive enough to not insult anyone and yet determined enough to not earn any more questions or doubt from the others.

"See?" Dean waved a hand towards him as if to say, 'You heard him' and turned back to Ron. "Harry agrees."

"I do?" The question was out before Harry had had the chance to think about it.

"So you don't?"

"See?" Now it was Ron's turn to look victorious. "Harry agrees with me."

"I don't think that's what he meant."

Thank you, Seamus! Harry looked from one boy to the next, feeling overwhelmed. He really didn't want to cause a scene, but he wasn't comfortable with the others just assuming anything about him, either.

"Well, what do you think, then?" The redhead looked at Harry and the latter really wasn't sure how to react without insulting anyone. He didn't want to be in this situation. At all.

"It's not important what I think," he said and focussed on the scrambled eggs he'd pushed around on his plate ever since the conversation had taken an uncomfortable turn.

"Of course, it is!" Ron sounded downright insulted. Pieces of sausage flew across the table, landing on the wooden surface. Seamus cringed. "Do you think Granger hates me?"

"Well, I don't think she hates you. I think she's just annoyed that you keep glaring at her," Dean said loudly, hands still protectively covering his plate. "Just like Harry said - hate is a very strong word and would need more from your side to be warranted."

Harry wasn't too sure whether Ron would accept that remark, but he didn't have time to further worry about it as Seamus started grabbing everything within arm's reach to throw into his school bag. "We need to leave now if we don't want to be late for Charms."

That was enough to distract Ron.

*~*HP*~*

The rest of the day went by relatively smoothly. The occasional grumble and muttered complaint from Ron could be easily ignored and whenever Harry chanced a glance towards Hermione Granger, she was focussed on either the Professor or her notes. He really hoped that things would work themselves out. He hadn't even been here for a semester yet and he honestly didn't want to make enemies with a housemate this early. Or at all for that matter. Maybe Hermione was just as insecure as he was, yet she didn't have Ron, Seamus, and Dean to hang out with and talk to.

Maybe Harry should offer her his friendship? Sure, she was a bit annoying with her constant eagerness when it came to classes and the way she puffed up and sat up straighter whenever she'd answered a question correctly was quite off-putting, but everyone needed a friend, right? Back in primary school, he'd have been grateful if someone had walked up to him and had just talked to him.

As the bell rang to announce the end of their lessons for the day, he watched her gather up her books and quills, put it all into her bag, and march out of the Transfiguration classroom, head held high.

Ron, who was sitting next to him, followed his glance and scowled immediately. "Annoying, that one, honestly."

The familiar churning feeling filled his stomach again, reminding him of the friends he already had. Would he risk his chance of being accepted if he were to approach Hermione? He'd never had friends before, so he couldn't say for sure how they would react. Would Ron just stop talking to him instead and would that be worth it? What if Hermione didn't want his friendship in the first place and he would just end up ruining the one he had built over the last two months?

He bit his lip, unsure of what to do. Slowly, he put his books back into his backpack and stood up. Ron was already halfway out of the classroom by the time Harry started moving as well.

Maybe it would be best to let it rest for a few days, he figured as he followed his friend through the vast hallways. Maybe it would be best to have Ron calm down and forget about the whole Hermione thing before approaching her. It wasn't like she would quit school tomorrow, so he had all the time in the world to think about how to go about it.

"My mum said the Halloween feast is the second best, right after the welcoming feast." Seamus beamed as he walked backwards in front of them. Harry absentmindedly wondered when he'd trip and fall on his bum. "She said there will be floating pumpkins everywhere and she told me to watch out for bats. They swoop down when you least expect it and steal your potatoes."

"I wouldn't mind if they were to swoop down on some people and chase them out of the Great Hall."

Harry's eyes jumped to Ron and a scowl started forming on his face. He really didn't understand why Ron disliked Hermione that much. Sure, she was a bookworm and wasn't doing anything to gain any friends, but she wasn't that bad, was she?

"Who do you mean?" Seamus asked innocently, still walking backwards.

"Granger, of course," Ron scoffed and pulled his school bag further up his shoulder. "She's just so annoying! No wonder she doesn't have any friends!"

Before Harry could do more than bite on his tongue and watch Seamus and Dean look at one another, Hermione brushed past them. She held her head low, bumping her shoulder into his.

"She heard you." The words were out before he had the chance to stop them.

Ron rolled his eyes and shrugged. "What do I care? She's annoying."

*~*HP*~*

Harry hadn't felt at ease for the rest of the day. Wherever he'd gone, he'd looked for the bushy head of hair or the book bag that looked like it was about to rip in half. But he hadn't seen Hermione anywhere.

As they entered the Great Hall, he immediately searched for the girl at the Gryffindor table but came up empty again.

"See? What did I say about the pumpkins?" Seamus started jumping up and down excitedly as they made their way towards the right side of the hall where plates upon plates of food were already waiting for them. "Mum wasn't exaggerating, they look wicked!"

Harry did his best to ignore the chatter around him as he pushed his carrots around on his plate, not touching his food. He knew what it felt like to be the odd one out, the one everyone was picking on. He'd sworn to himself that he would never be one of the bullies, but he couldn't help but feel that because of his habit of staying quiet, Hermione was hiding somewhere.

"...crying."

He blinked and turned to Parvati and Lavender, two Gryffindor first years that he'd seen sitting at Hermione's side every once in a while.

"Seriously?"

"Yes!" Lavender leant forward over the table and her hair dropped into her mashed potatoes. "She's been hiding in the loo for ages now. I don't know what's wrong with her, she's been acting weird lately."

Harry frowned, eyes still focussed on Lavender's braid that was now dragging through the brown sauce. Hermione was hiding in a bathroom crying? They made her cry?

He swallowed painfully. This wasn't right. This wasn't right at all. His stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch that caused him to drop his fork. He'd lost his appetite.

How was it possible that he was the only one worried about Hermione? Ron and the others were still chatting merrily, unconcerned that their behaviour might have been wrong. They had probably already forgotten about their encounter with the Gryffindor girl earlier that day.

But before he could say anything to them, the grand double doors of the Great Hall burst open. In a short, wild moment, Harry thought that Hermione would march through them, shooting glares towards Ron, before settling at their table and telling Lavender to pull her plait out of her food, but it wasn't Hermione standing there, eyes big and face pale.

It was Professor Quirrel.

"Troll! Troll! In the dungeons!" His shout echoed off the walls and every noise the students had been making seized. "Thought you ought to know," he muttered softly just before his eyes rolled back and his legs collapsed underneath him.

It only took two seconds before all hell broke loose. A Hufflepuff first year started screaming, which was soon followed by other shrieks of terror. Prefects were trying their best to keep their houses at their tables but weren't very successful until Dumbledore's voice boomed through the room.

"Silence!"

Harry froze mid-movement. He'd been pulled out of his seat by Ron, who had started yelling incomprehensible things as soon as that Hufflepuff had let out her scream. His skin colour had taken on an odd shade of reddish-pink, which clashed horribly with his orange hair.

"Prefects, take the younger years back to the Common Rooms. The rest of you, follow them. All teachers will follow me to the dungeons."

It was as if his words carried magic as Harry immediately started to look for the shiny badges of the Prefects.

Harry felt Ron taking hold of his arm just before he was being pulled towards where his brother Percy was waving his hands through the air, clearly enjoying being the centre of attention.

"Ron," Harry said softly and pulled his arm backwards to get his friend's attention. "Ron, we have to find Hermione."

"What?" The look of utter confusion on Ron's face would have been funny if the overwhelming feeling of dread wasn't spreading through Harry's veins like poison.

"Hermione," he repeated, his eyes jumping from Ron to Percy, and back again. "She's hiding in some bathroom. She doesn't know about the troll!"

"So what?" Ron shrugged and was about to turn his back on Harry before casting a last look towards the Head table. "Besides, Quirrel said it's in the dungeons. And I doubt buck-teeth will hide near the snakes' lair."

Harry winced at the name but didn't say anything about it. They had more pressing matters at hand. "She needs to know, though."

A loud groan escaped the redhead before he grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him over to where his brother was still trying to calm the younger students down.

"Percy," he said loudly as they came to a stop right in front of the Prefect, "Granger isn't here. Harry said she's hiding somewhere."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake." Percy looked stressed. His cheeks were splotchy with hectic red spots and he was sweating slightly. "Well, never mind that. I will look for her once I've got you all in the Common Room. Now, no discussions! Dumbledore's orders. Off you go!"

It didn't feel right to follow the throng of students walking through the castle. The atmosphere was tense, and Harry had to fight every instinct that screamed at him to just leg it and look for Hermione himself. Following his classmates to the dormitories just wasted time; time they didn't have! He honestly doubted that the troll would stay in the dungeons for long. Nobody wanted to stay down there and he was positive that creatures weren't any exception for the general dislike of the damp cellar.

But, as Percy had said, it was Professor Dumbledore's order. Despite what he'd experienced over the last two months at Hogwarts, he couldn't help but feel that the headmaster had made a grave mistake by letting him attend. Openly defying his rules would only remind him of his mistake, which, in turn, would end the best time Harry had had in his life so far.

So would he turn around and bail? To look for a girl that didn't like him? No, he wouldn't.

No matter how much his brain kept yelling at him to run and look for her, he forced those thoughts down. He needed to learn to trust the adults in his life, and right now, those adults were the teachers of Hogwarts, all of whom were roaming the dungeons, looking for the troll. He needed to push his past experiences aside and believe that they would find it. That they would find her.

Because Harry honestly doubted that Professor McGonagall would allow a fifteen-year-old male student to wander through the castle with a troll on the loose, checking every girls' bathroom there was. No matter whether that fifteen-year-old was a Prefect or not.

*~*HP*~*

As Professor Dumbledore shared the news during breakfast the next morning, Harry felt as if the floor was opening beneath him, swallowing him whole.

The teachers had found the mountain troll late last night, shuffling lazily out of a girls' lavatory on the third floor. They had no idea how it had got out of the dungeons and why one student hadn't been at the feast on Halloween night.

That day, all lessons were cancelled. Most of the student body was shocked beyond belief and even Ron couldn't bring himself to be chipper that day.

As they sat next to the Black Lake that evening, overlooking its smooth, dark surface, Harry swore to whoever might be listening that he'd do everything in his power to make sure something like that would never happen again.

He couldn't trust adults to do their job. He never could have.

I hope you liked this little "What if"-story!

Until next time - see ya!