Welcome to the first chapter of Endless Possibilities. I have no idea why I wrote this story. Take nothing seriously and I do not own Harry Potter.
Hagrid POV
"You're a wizard, Harry." Hagrid said proudly, lips pulled up into a wide smile as he looked down at the small, thin, boy standing in front of him who's eyes were filling with wonder and… glee?
"Firebolt!" The small boy shouted, whirling around and pointing his finger at the older Dursley's standing at the stairs, the fat man's face completely red.
Everyone froze, silent, the older Dursley's were frozen in fear, their eyes bulging as they waited for the inevitable. The younger one was also standing stock-still, trembling in his flannel pyjamas as he looked at his parents. Harry… Well, Harry was staring at his finger, anticipation clear in his eyes, smiling broadly. But as he watched, confusion started filling his eyes as he stared bewildered at his finger.
Wheeling around, Hagrid was taken aback as Harry shot him a look, annoyance clear in his voice, "I thought you said I was a wizard."
"…You are." Hagrid responded slowly, still not understanding what was going on.
Harry arched an eyebrow, "Well then, then this should work."
He once again turned to the Dursley's throwing his head up into the sky and thrust his arms to the side, "Oh, goddess Azura! Hear me speak and aid me in my quest! Grant me your power!"
Then, thrusting both of his hands towards the Dursley's, he shouted power filling his voice, shocking Hagrid at its intensity.
"Fireball!"
Hagrid stepped back in surprise as a massive ball of fire emerged from Harry's hands, washing the old shack in orange light as it streaked towards the fear stricken older Dursley's. He recovered quickly, stepping forward as he fumbled at his umbrella, rushing to stop the ball of fire.
Only for his efforts to be unneeded as the ball of fire winked out of existence, disappearing in an instant and saving the Dursley's from imminent death.
"Yes!" Harry crowed, thrusting his arms up into the air as he jumped around, joy emanating from him, "I did it! I'm a wizard! I am the Dragonborn!"
He twisted around, pointing commandingly at Hagrid, "Hagrid! Tell me where I can find Alduin!"
Hermione POV
Hermione's first real interaction with a magical of her age, or even the first with person her age in a while, was… interesting to say the least.
She and her parents had arrived in Platform Nine and a Three-Quarters quite easily, following the clear instructions of Professor McGonagall to the letter. Although her father had been very hesitant to run into the wall, until her mother had somehow managed to threaten him into submission.
After their arrival, she had hugged her parents once more, promising her mother that she would call -owl- them as soon as she could. Hermione had shrunk into herself slightly when her mother had spoken about all the friends she would make. After another tearful hug, her parents had let her board the train, just before it was to depart.
Inside, she had looked for a compartment and had finally found one that was at least partly empty halfway down the train. Inside, a boy, around her age, was sitting comfortably as he read a thick and old book, one which Hermione eyed appreciatively.
Summoning her courage and knocking on the door, she opened it as the boy looked up, black hair bobbing as it followed his motion. Swallowing slightly under the intense (and slightly crazed) gaze that the emerald green eyes put her under.
"Um…" She started nervously, "Can I sit here?"
The emerald eyes blinked at her, slightly confused, before seemingly suddenly realising that she was actually talking to him, nodding madly, he replied, "Sure."
"Thank you." She muttered as she settled down opposite him, trying not to bump into him. They fell into silence after that. The boy was reading his book, avidly sifting through the pages, but at each turning of a page his face would fall slightly.
Curious at what was causing this reaction, Hermione asked, curiosity overcoming her fear, "What book are you reading?"
"Huh?" The boy muttered as he looked at her, puzzled at the sudden question, "Oh, it's A Guide to Dragons: The Complete Edition. I'm looking for a dragon I know of."
Hermione gasped, leaning forwards, "A book about dragons?! I've read all about them. Have you seen one before?"
"No," The boy responded, his head shaking sadly, before it shot up, excitement blooming in his eyes, "But I will. Soon. I'm looking for one now, although Hagrid told me he hasn't heard of him. Maybe he was lying?"
Not understanding who Hagrid was, Hermione focused on the dragon the boy was talking about, "Is it a rare one? I heard that many of the bigger and more dangerous breeds have been hunted for their skin and tee-"
"What!" The boy exploded, jumping up and grabbing Hermione by the shoulders and looking her straight in the eyes, "Are you sure the dragons are harvested for their skin? Is there anything else?"
Hermione replied slowly, taken aback by the sudden questioning, never having faced a situation like this before, "I've read up about the harvesting. It's not only teeth, but bladder's, liver. Anything useful for potions or rituals is taken. I saw that dragon organs are some of the best ingredients for the Rituals of Power and Mind."
The boy let her go, stepping back to sit back on his seat. He was shaking, his mouth drawn into a large beaming smile, his eyes were alight were excitement and glee. Hermione watched him worriedly, she had seen one of her father's patients in a seizure before. Was it something she did? Should she call a prefec-
"Loot!" The boy screamed in utter joy, as he grabbed his book and flipped through it quickly, the pages flashing, "Loot exists. I'm coming for you Alduin. And you Belial."
He paused his mumbling as he looked over his book, his green eyes looking at her curiously, "Who are you?"
Hermione paused; he had asked for her name. Why? This hadn't happened in a while, how should she react? Hesitantly, she opened her mouth.
"Hermione Granger. And yours?"
"I'm Harry Potter." He replied, before diving back into his book, "And I think we're going to be very good friends."
Astonished, Hermione gaped in surprise. Her mind and thoughts completely frozen as she repeated what he had said inside.
'Good friends'
She blinked back tears as she absorbed the warmth of those words. Looking to the green-eyed boy flipping through his book furiously, she turned her head and drew her book, all the while smiling as the mumbles of her new maybe-friend filled the compartment. Although they were pretty weird. Especially, the constant, ravenous, murmurings of 'Legendary' and dragon bones.
McGonagall POV
McGonagall sighed as she waited behind the large doors that led into the entrance hall. How long could Hagrid be taking. If they were not here soon, then they would be late.
However, her thoughts were cut off by the sound of large crack next to her. Turning, McGonagall let out a breath of relief when she saw it was the house elf, she had sent to warn her when Hagrid was coming. Couldn't let herself be taken by surprise, could she? It would be horrible for her hard-maintained and cultivated reputation.
"Deputy Headmissy McGonny." The elf, Elly, squeaked, "Biggy is coming soon."
"Thank you, Elly." McGonagall, inclining her head, "Now, please help the other elves in the kitchen."
Nodding her head wildly, the house elf popped away. McGonagall faced the gigantic doors once again, righting her hat and drawing herself up.
As soon as the large knocks sounded at the door, she waved her wand, wordlessly opening the doors. She stepped forward, standing in front of Hagrid and the crowd of children, who had gone silent at the sight of her, respect clear in her eyes. She smiled inwardly, she still had it. Nodding at Hagrid in gratitude, she dismissed him to go to the Great Hall.
"Welcome to Hogwarts." She stated imperiously, looking down at the students with a discerning eye, looking for any troublemakers, "Premier School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
She turned around smoothly, gesturing for the crowd of students to follow her. Stepping into the Entrance Hall, she stopped in front of the doors that led to the Great Hall.
"Soon the sorting will begin." McGonagall began, her piercing eyes glancing at the walls, where were they?
As if they had read her mind, screams sounded as Hogwarts's ghosts glided through the wall, seemingly chattering in between themselves. McGonagall's mouth threatened to fall into a smirk at the familiar sight, but she managed to will it to staying a straight line. Step 2 was finished, now it was her turn again.
"Enough!" She asserted, her voice echoing off the walls and instantly stilling the nervous children, "These are the ghosts of Hogwarts, they will not harm you. But realise that they can and will watch you, protect you. Yet, if any rules are broken, then…" She trailed off threateningly, her satisfaction growing at the signs of fear and nervousness everyone had when she looked at them. Oh, the plan was going flawlessly.
"Come." She said simply, thanking Snape as she whirled around for his kind… donation of the spell to make her robes flair grandiosely. She snorted slightly at the thought of her colleague. He would fall this year, most of his tactics were so… primitive.
Walking through the Hall, she looked straight ahead, drinking in the painful grimace on Snape's face. This was the fourth year he had campaigned to be the one to welcome the new students, but McGonagall had ensured Dumbledore would not accept. So, Snape was doomed to always start as the losing one.
Reaching the old, worn stool with the threadbare Sorting Hat on it, she stood next to it and rolled open a scroll she produced from her pocket.
"First, I will call your names." She announced, causing any faint whispers to disappear immediately, "Then you shall come up and the Sorting Hat will choose your house."
She looked down on the scroll and picked up the hat, "Hannah Abbott."
Lowering the scroll, McGonagall looked sharply at the approaching girl, scrutinising her, looking for that flair, that air talented witches and wizards exuded. Nymphadora Tonks had it, James Potter had as well, especially for Transfiguration, Dumbledore was it. But finding nothing, she dully plonked the hat on the shaking girl.
"Ah," The hat said as it wriggled on Abbott's head, causing her to shriek, "I see. Loyal, yes. Unambitious, yet studious. I believe it is… Hufflepuff!"
The Abbott Girl sprang up, wrenching the hat of her, before sending a fleeting smile, that quickly turned into an expression of fear, towards McGonagall. Sighing inside for what felt like the thousandth time today, McGonagall continued, readying for a period of listening to the Hat's mad ramblings.
The rest of the students were not much more interesting than the Abbott girl. Her friend the Bones girl joined her in Hufflepuff. Millicent Bulstrode was the first to be sorted into Slytherin, meaning the first one she marked as a lost cause for now. A muggleborn, Hermione Granger, had piqued her interest. She had that air around her and that made her interesting. It wasn't often a muggleborn had one of those. Lily Potter was the best of the lot that McGonagall knew, or had known.
Daphne Greengrass was sorted to Slytherin, another one with the air. Although McGonagall was impressed with the façade the girl put up. She could have frozen the sun with how ice-cold her gaze was.
The Malfoy boy was sorted to Slytherin, the Hat calling out the result just as McGonagall had lowered it onto the boy. She shot a subtle, victorious glance towards Snape, knowing that he wouldn't almost scare his godson to death.
"Harry Potter."
Potter appeared quickly, almost running towards her in her haste. She scrutinised him carefully as he came closer. His green eyes were so similar to Lily's, it almost bought a tear to her eye. But the rest, the rest was all James Potter. The hair, the smile, everything.
Excitedly, Potter sat on the stool, eagerly waiting for her to put the Hat on him. McGonagall did so quickly, wanting to hide his face from her for a while, unwilling to allow her reputation and plan to go to smoke due to her sorrow for his parent's death.
"Yes, I am a magic item." The Hat's amused voice bought her out of her thoughts, drawing her out of her misery, "No, I do not give stat points."
What were they talking about?
"No," The Hat continued, as he seemed to override Potter's mumbled reply, "I do not believe I provide extra Magicka or Intelligence."
The Hat bent over slightly, his voice lowering to a whisper that McGonagall strained to catch, "Although, I do help with Memory Recall. Godric used me for it often."
A short pause followed as McGonagall looked at the pair with a raised eyebrow, still confused with what they were talking about. Why wasn't the Hat sorting Potter? Was something wrong with the enchantments?
"Yes," The Hat said, the amusement more present than before, "I know the Ritual used to create me and the one to increase Intelligence. But for now, we must part. I believe that for your utter devotion to following your… dreams you will be Gryffindor!"
McGonagall took the Hat of Potter's head, although the boy seemed unwilling, though his grumbling soon stopped with a stern glare from her. Hopping up, Potter started to walk towards the rabidly cheering table surrounded by banners of red and gold.
"Potter." The Hat called quietly, attracting only the startled McGonagall and the still moody Potter's attention, "Look up Scandinavian Shoutdrakes. Your answer lies there."
Potter grinned wildly, his eyes flashing with delight, before turning to walk to the Gryffindor table. McGonagall eyed him warily, why the Hat would feel the need to tell a boy to search for dragons, she did not know. But she knew one thing very well.
Potter was different, a challenge that she would tackle with great effort to complete her goal.
To show that infernal potions master his place and let the very mention of her name invoke fear in all.
Daphne POV
Daphne Greengrass was extremely excited for Charms. Well, who wouldn't be? She had looked forward to this class for years. While the previous Charms lessons had been all theory, today would be different. Today they would learn real magic.
Wingardium Leviosa.
It was a simple spell in truth, a simple swish and flick that they had practiced for weeks now and then the feather would rise into the air and float. That was all the did, little else, but Daphne could think of many other things that she would be able to do with the spell. No need to get out of bed for a book or a cup of water. She could lift Tori into the air whenever she annoyed her.
She smiled slightly at her last thought. It would be suitable payback for what Tori had done on the morning Daphne had left for Hogwarts. She had almost not noticed the colour potion until she had, fortunately, smelled it. Revenge would be sweet.
But she tore herself away from her thoughts of righteous revenge, focusing on the matter at hand. When she arrived at Charms with the rest of her house, Professor Flitwick had split them into pairs, one Slytherin with one Gryffindork. And guess who Daphne was paired with?
Potter.
She didn't know how to handle this new situation. Her entire life she had been preparing for her time in Hogwarts. For the politicking and the backstabbing that was the norm in Slytherin. But now all her training had left her.
At least Potter was seemingly better than the rest of his house. Merlin be damned if she was paired with Longbottom. A relationship of any kind, even just one in class, with The Boy Who Lived was political suicide for a Slytherin, especially a first year like Daphne. The same went with Granger and Weasley, so Potter seemed to be the best choice.
But as she watched the grinning, emerald eyed boy, hanging onto Professor Flitwick's every word, she couldn't help but feel she was completely wrong in her assumption.
"Magic," Professor Flitwick said, drawing her away from her wandering thoughts, "Is the greatest gift given to this world to us."
He was standing calmly on his stack of books, looking over them with a visible excitement as he rubbed his hands, "Without magic, the world would be so much duller, so much less interesting."
"Magic can do almost anything." He swept his hands grandiosely around him, "With it you can raze cities to the ground and create massive storms that can engulf the world."
Daphne shifted slightly as she felt excitement bubbling inside her. Casting a glance around, she managed to catch sight of Potter grinning crazily as he leaned forward in anticipation.
Professor Flitwick cracked a grin, "But for now, we must start with the basics. Please remember a swish and a flick while pronouncing Wingardium Leviosa clearly. But most importantly, remember the core of magic."
Hopping off from his tack of books, Professor Flitwick said one simple thing, "Intent."
Then with another flourish of his hands, he really loved doing that, he set them to start. Daphne turned her gaze to the feather lying in front of her. She grinned slightly in anticipation as she raised her wand, pointing it straight at the feather.
"Wingardium Leviosa." She stated clearly, swishing and flicking her wand, satisfaction filling her at finally being able to do this. She wanted to become the greatest witch of all time, and now she could start that journey. This was real magic, this was her future, this was a… failure?
She stared unblinkingly at her feather, still lying on her desk, not having moved an inch. She failed? How? This wasn't supposed to be the start of her road to greatness.
No! She shook her head slightly, cutting her train of thought off. This was merely her first try at real magic. Even Morgana Le Fay had to start somewhere. She just had to get this spell right, and then her journey would begin.
Taking in a deep breath, she swished and flicked her wand once more, following Professor Flitwick's exact words. A swish and a flick, "Wingardium Leviosa."
Once again nothing happened, she gritted her teeth, growling "Wingardium Leviosa."
Nothing happened.
"Wingardium Leviosa." She dragged the words out now. But still, nothing happened.
"Wingardium Leviosa."
"Wingardium Leviosa."
She drew in a breath through her clenched teeth, she had to do this. She would not fail again. The feather would rise. Would! She cleared her mind, leaving only that single thought opened her mouth to begin the spell, before another voice cut in, breaking her concentration.
"Wingardium Leviosa." The voice was filled with excitement and expectation. It held a quiet confidence, as if the owner couldn't believe they might fail. And it belonged to Potter.
Daphne watched, her eye twitching as Potter's feather rose slowly in the air, as if carried by invisible strings. Potter was smiling broadly, moving in his wand in circles, the feather mirroring him.
"Well done, Mr Potter!" Professor Flitwick said, smiling as he looked up at the floating feather, "Very well done. I see you have your mother's gift for Charms. 10 points to Gryffindor."
To the side, Daphne noticed how Longbottom was staring at Potter with a slight frown on his face, his eyes held an unexplainable emotion. He flicked his hand, as if in irritation, before turning back to his feather and continuing to wave his wand at it.
"Need help Greengrass?" Potter's voice once again drew her attention. He was staring at her, an amused glint present in his eyes as Professor Flitwick walked away, "You seem slightly unfocused."
"I don't need help Potter." Daphne replied, keeping her voice as cold and emotionless as possible, "And my mind is as focused as it can be."
Potter lifted his hands in mock surrender, his smile irritatingly wider than before, "Excuse me for offering to help then. It just looked like you were really struggling for a moment there."
"Does a viper need help from a kitten to slay its prey?" Daphne hissed back, her eyes flashing with anger.
"A toothless viper does." Potter shrugged, "And I haven't seen any sign of teeth yet."
Daphne smirked dangerously, "Do you want to see?"
Potter dared to laugh, leaning backwards on his chair, "Well, seeing as you don't even know a single spell, I don't think I need to be worried."
Daphne scowled, but her anger suddenly turned into wonder when she noticed something. Holding her wand and pointing it subtly at the smiling boy, out of Professor Flitwick's sight, she summoned her will, clearing her mind. Slowly, she felt her mind fall into ease, her frustration melting away. She felt the air around her, the chair she sat on.
She felt her magic.
It was warm, comforting. It surrounded her, flowed through her. It protected her, breathed life into her. It was her.
In a flash she opened her eyes, focusing on the leg of Potter's chair. She pushed the magic out. She willed it into place, not needing words or wand movements. She only thought.
With a loud crack, Potter's chair leg broke apart, taking the grinning boy by surprise as he fell. His breath was knocked out of him, leaving him gasping for breath as he lay there surprised.
Daphne leaned over him, flicking her dirty blonde hair over her shoulder. She smiled victoriously at the stunned boy, making sure no one else could see it.
"Remember Potter." She mocked, drinking in his expression of disbelief and committing it to memory.
"Intent is the core of magic."
Ron POV
In Ron Weasley's mind, there was only one thing that surpassed sleeping in greatness.
Food.
In his mind, food was the greatest magic that ever existed. What would life be without chicken? Without gravy? Without cake?
Well, Ron Weasley knew the answer. Nothing. Life would be nothing if not for food, so Ron made sure to always eat as much of it as he could. And that was why Halloween was one of his favourite days of his time at Hogwarts each day. It had the feast. An evening of pure beauty and enjoyment.
The day had started normally. They had finally been able to learn their first spell in Charms. Wingardium Levioso, or was it Leviosa? Anyway, Ron had been too focused on the coming feast to pay attention. He could always learn the spell later. Ginger had bothered him during the lesson as well, acting like she knew everything. Well, Ron had shown her. She had run off, probably crying at how she had no friends.
Which Ron Weasley had a lot off. Bean Thomas sat next to him, leaning away an expression of… disgust, no it must be sadness at how slow he seemed to be at eating this wonderful food. Neville Porkbottom opposite him had the same expression. It must be incredibly sad to live like them, deprived of the joy of eating as much as Ron.
Harry Butter sat next to Neville and he was the only one not lamenting the lack of joy in their life. Ever since his fall in Charms, Ron had sniggered hard at the sight, he had an emotion in his eyes that Ron just barely couldn't put a name on. Was it anger? No, although likely because he was barely eating. Sadness? No. Wait, there. Eagerness.
He continuously flashed his eyes behind Ron, towards the other tables. His eager eyes seemingly focusing on something before they rapidly returned to his food. He kept on mumbling about revenge and a declaration of war. Ron didn't care. It was distracting him from eating.
Once again, his mind focused on the food in front of him. Ravenously, he tore at his ninth drumstick, ripping of two more ahead of time. No need to waste time at the feast. However, before he could bite into them, the large doors burst open, hitting the walls with aloud thud. Drumsticks in hand, he turned to look at who dared to stop Ron Weasley from eating.
It was Professor Quirrell. He rushed through the doors; an expression of pure terror plastered on his face. He faltered as he came into the room, his eyes wide as he shouted, "Troll in the dungeons!"
Then he fainted as pandemonium spread through the hall. Students were jumping from their seats and rushing to the doors. Were they running away from food?! No, it couldn't possibly be. Ron wouldn't run. If they left it would just mean more food for him. His eyes glinted as Harry sprang to his feet, drawing his wand and shouting out something about a Mini boss. One less person to take his drumsticks away from him now.
"Silence!" Dumbledore bellowed as he stood up, immediately silencing the screaming crowd of students, "Please calm down! All students, please head back to your houses under the supervision of your prefects!"
He cast his piercing gaze down towards them, "I expect total obedience or else the consequences will be severe!"
He then swept down from the teacher's table, rushing through the door, Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall following him. As Dumbledore walked past, Ron felt the hairs on the back of the neck rising. Dumbledore was radiating magic, magic so powerful it was almost tangible.
"Come on Ron!" Percy's voice cut through his wandering thoughts, "You too Harry! Now!"
Ron started at his brother's voice, scowling at the prat. What about his food? But he could only helplessly hold onto his two drumsticks as his brother forced him to stand. Thinking quickly, he grabbed two napkins. Wrapping them around the drumsticks, he frowned as his brother shouted at him to put the food away and start walking.
However, his pockets were full of sweets already, so he couldn't fit them anywhere. Looking around, an idea, a horrible one really, struck him as soon as he saw Butter, who was walking slouched, a very visible scowl on his face, next to him.
"Hey Harry." He called, attracting the boy's questioning gaze, "Can you keep these in your pocket for me?"
Holding out the two wrapped drumsticks, he almost cried when Butter nodded absently, grabbing and putting them in his pockets carelessly. Ron watched him carefully, eyes focused on his dormmates pockets as they joined the back of the line.
Quickly, they exited the Great Hall, climbing up the stairs on their way to the Gryffindor Common Room. Everyone was walking quietly and in neat rows, seemingly having listened to Dumbledore's instructions. Well, almost everyone was walking quietly.
One of the girls in his year, Ron thought it was Parvati Patty, was talking quietly to another one of the girls, "I hope Hermione's still not in the bathroom, McGonagall might punish her if she finds her."
"Do you think we should tell the prefects?" Came the hushed reply as a collective shudder ran through the group at McGonagall's name.
"No need." Parvati replied, "The trolls only in the dungeon and she's on the second floor. So, what could go wrong?"
In front of Ron, Butter stiffened at the conversation, before turning to Parvati with wide eyes, his whispered to himself, eyes wide with fear, "It can't be. She said it. She said it…"
Then, in a flash he bolted into the door next to them, disappearing into it quietly and not alerting anyone except Ron. Ron blinked for a moment, stopping in his tracks as his mind processed what had just happened.
Finally, realising what had just happened, Ron growled as he darted after the black-haired boy, taking care not to alert the others. As soon as he was through the door, he bolted after Butter. He had stolen his food! How dare he! No one stole Ron Weasley's food and got away with it.
Quickly, they ran through the corridors, Ron finding an energy he never knew he had as he ran after the errant thief.
Ahead he saw Butter run around a corner, wand in hand. However, Ron furrowed his brows as Butter soon reappeared, jumping back around the corner much faster than he disappeared. His eyes were wide, the whites of them glinting in the bright torchlight.
"Butter!" Ron shouted as he came closer, almost in touching distance, "How dare you –"
His stopped straight in his tracks and bit his words back in fear as the thief levelled his wand straight at Ron, just between his eyes. But Ron noticed how the wand was trembling, actually Butter was shaking all over.
Silently, Butter raised a trembling finger to his lips, holding it in a shushing gesture. Ron quieted down as spectacled boy lowered his wand before pointing around the corner, murmuring a single hushed word.
"Look."
Confused, Ron hesitantly stepped forward and looked around the corner. In a flash he drew back as soon as he could, hugging the wall and holding onto it to quiet his beating heart. Summonig his courage, he and Butter peeked around the wall.
The troll. It was lumbering down the hallway, dragging a gigantic club behind it. It was taller and wider than Ron and could easily crush them.
Swallowing, Ron looked at Butter, for once not focusing on the food, "Let's go."
"We can't." Butter whispered back, as the troll hesitated next to a large door, before slowly opening the door.
"Why not?" The troll was entering the room now, one that Ron new but he couldn't remember for the love of food.
Butter motioned towards the door as it closed behind the troll, his words heavy, "I think Hermione's in there."
A loud scream rang from the room, one that Ron now identified as the Second Floor Girls Bathroom. It rang around the walls, piercing deep into Ron's ears. Slowly, he turned to meet Butter's eyes. For once, his eyes lacked that eagerness. Instead, it now carried heaviness and a slight hint of fear.
"Harry," Ron whispered, realising he was trembling like Butter, "Just give me the food and –"
Butter ignored him, sprinting around the corner and towards the room, clutching his wind tightly in his grip. Ron's eyes latched onto the boy and realising what was happening, they slid over to Butter's pockets flying behind him. His food.
With a loud roar, courage filled him as he sped after Butter. He needed that food! It was heavenly!
He crashed through the doors just after Butter, finding him staring at the large troll as it loomed over Ginger, who was hugging the wall, trapped. The bathroom was in pieces. Pieces of the broken sink littered the floor, most of the stall doors had been reduced to scraps of wood.
"Hermione!" Butter screamed, grabbing a broken piece of sink at the side. With a loud heave, he whipped it towards the troll, managing to hit it in the head. The troll paused it's advance towards Ginger. Then, with a menacing brutality it swung around, settling its club heavily on the floor, which cracked slightly. Its face was misshapen, eyes uneven and teeth crooked as it smiled dumbly at them.
"Butter!" Ron bit, backing away slowly, "What are you doing?!"
Butter raised his hands in the air, magic crackling in the air and lifting Ron's hair up slightly, "Sparks!"
A brilliant bolt of lightning crackled from his hands, arcing towards the surprised troll and slamming straight into its chest. The troll took a massive step backwards, almost falling, but it managed to steady itself as it shook its head.
Next to Ron, Butter lowered his hand, disbelief evident on his face as he looked at the troll. The troll that was now thudding towards them with the dumb smile on its face still there. Both Ron and Butter were still frozen, still not understanding how the troll was standing.
However, as the troll swung its giant hand towards them, both managed to start moving. They ducked under the large hand, running around the troll towards its other side. But with a shattering thud, the troll swung its club at them, slamming into the floor and broken stalls and sending a shower of debris towards them.
Both of them were knocked off their feet, Ron's vision slightly filling with blackspots. But he rushed to stand up, shaking his head to get rid of them as he backpedalled away as the troll swung another hand at them. But the troll wasn't aiming for him. Butter just managed to dive out of the way, but Ron's gaze filled with horror as his cloak was caught by the troll, who ripped it off the emerald eyed boy.
The troll squeezed the cloak hard, realising only a few seconds later Butter wasn't in it. With a disgruntled face, it threw the cloak away, causing it to land in a heap on one of the broken stalls. Ron's eyes followed every move, specifically its pockets as he realised what the troll had just done.
"You bastard!" He shouted, raising his wand as the troll once again raised its club, "You destroyed my food!"
Then, with a sharp clarity that even he never thought would happen, he waved his wand in a swish and a flick, determinedly intoning, "Wingardium Leviosa!"
With a rush of warmth, the troll's club lifted from its hands, flying up into the air to hover over the troll. The monster looked up at its wayward weapon, confusion evident in its tone as it grunted and tried to fruitlessly grab it.
"Take this!" Ron yelled as he thrust his wand down, the club mimicking his motion. With the sickening sound of bone crunching it smashed into the troll's head. Next to Ron, Butter once again intoned his spell, summoning another bolt of lightning and sending it to the beast's head.
The club fell to the ground with a loud thump, settling on a spot next to them. The troll seemed to wobble on its feet, blood running freely from its horribly burnt nose and eyes. Then, it seemed to lose its balance, falling backwards as another sickening crunch sounded when its head hit the floor.
Time seemed to stop as Ron held in his breath, horribly expecting the troll to stand up again. But he let out a loud breath, mirrored by Butter, when the troll didn't move. Slowly, the two boys inched forward, coming to a stop next to the it's still head.
"Is it alive?" Ron asked hesitantly, as he stared at the bleeding head with a grotesque horror. Butter hesitantly, nudged the had with his food, jumping back as soon as he touched it, wand raised as the troll let out a bloody snort.
"Yes." Butter breathed, wand lowering as his shaking started to visibly ease, "But unconscious."
But both high-strung boys whirled around, wands levelled at the doors as they burst open, revealing… Professor McGonagall?
Ron sagged backwards at the familiar faces, knowing that they were safe now. Suddenly, his body seemed weak and tired. He could barely stand as it was. How did he not realise this before? When did this happen?
"Potter! Weasley!" McGonagall shouted, her famed and feared face set in a angry glare, "What are you doing here?!"
Ron opened his mouth to answer, but his mind shook as he remembered his main purpose here and what had happened to it. He whirled around, rushing towards the tattered cloak lying at the side. He crashed to his knees next to it frantically checking the pockets.
He let out a choked sob when he discovered the flattened drumsticks in them. He could barely believe it. The glorious food, all gone, all gone. He slumped over, holding the cloak to his chest as he mourned it's passing.
"Mister Weasley!" McGonagall roared, though Ron ignored her, "I ask again. What are you doing here?!"
"They saved me." Ginger's voice came from the side as Ron kept his eyes closed, remembering all the good times he had with his drumsticks, "I wanted to see the troll and they knocked it unconscious to protect me."
A strangled gasp sounded across the room, "Ms Granger! I am shocked. 5 points from Gryffindor for your irresponsible actions. I expected better."
"Sorry Professor." Ginger's meek voice replied.
"Weasley stand up." McGonagall ordered, forcing Ron to abandon his mourning, though he kept the cloak tight in his hands, unwilling to let it go. Looking at McGonagall, he saw her face was hard, her mouth set in a grimace.
"Normally, I would deduct points for disobeying a teacher's instructions." McGonagall started, her eyes boring into his and Butter's, but she swallowed a heavy sigh as she struggled to create a tortured smile. Yes, who could truly smile when food had been destroyed. It was truly dark times.
"But I believe for your brave actions, each of you deserve 10 house points for bravery and saving a fellow housemate."
Later on, in bed, Ron lied quietly, thoughts wandering about the evening that had just occurred. It had been a tragic day. His very first Halloween feast had been interrupted, his food destroyed by a troll and he had been unable to convince Professor McGonagall to send more to the Gryffindor Common Room.
Some may argue that the honour of defeating a troll and knocking it unconscious as a first year more than made up for the destruction of his food and feast. But Ron Weasley had just one question for them to show how wrong they were.
Could he eat that honour?
Daphne POV
Potter was up to something and Daphne found that incredibly troubling.
The blond haired Slytherin had seen Potter ducking into the third-floor corridor. The forbidden one. Now, Daphne didn't find this very abnormal for a normal student, but Potter wasn't normal. So, she shuddered to think of what he may be doing there. Potter did things that no one thought was normal, even possible.
Who had ever heard of a first year that had defeated a troll? Oh, Weasley had never explained what Potter had done, instead preferring to brag about his own exploits. Specifically, how he had knocked the troll out with its own club. Well, when you could drag his attention away from food that was. A task that seemed to be more difficult than actually taking on a troll if Tracy was to be believed. But Daphne knew Potter had done something. She just knew.
And now he was sneaking into the third-floor corridor and Daphne had to see what he was up to. And who's to say she couldn't mess with him a bit? Although, she had to ensure she wasn't caught. Otherwise, her standing in Slytherin would be damaged.
Quickly darting through the door, she closed it softly, not wanting to alert Potter. She drew her wand and walked down the hall. Knowing Potter, he would likely have set traps everywhere just for the sake of it. Their first Charms lesson on Halloween morning had only heralded their future problems with each other. Now, a single class didn't go buy where one of them 'tripped' on a book just 'lying' around, or 'accidentally' being doused by their ink pots when a spell went wrong. As if she could get a spell wrong now.
Luckily, Charms was the only class where they were close enough to each other to do this. All their other lessons they sat as far apart from each other as they could. That was the only thing that kept them from killing each other so far.
Well, that and their magic. None of them knew enough spells and Daphne knew even she couldn't directly control her magic that well. Only for a small push or pull here and there. It required a much greater effort that normal spells she had found. Why, she did not know. But she had settled for a hybrid of intent magic and spell magic.
"Well, well if it isn't the toothless viper. Following me now?"
Daphne grimaced, turning to glare at Potter. He was standing in an alcove in the wall, hidden by one of the large columns that lined the entire hallway. She had walked past him without even noticing. Something must be wrong with her today.
"More like ensuring that a little kitten doesn't get lost." She replied coldly, whirling around and starting to walk down the corridor once more.
"No need to worry about that." Potter said, falling into line next to her, Daphne had to resist the urge to pull out her wand to hex him, "No kittens in sight here."
Daphne ignored him, fixing her sight focused on a door in front of them, one that was very different to the ones around it. Not visually of course, it looked like all the others. Dark brown, worn with age and riddled with cobwebs. But magically… it was something else entirely.
Beyond this door, Daphne felt pure magic seeping through, surrounding them in a halo of power. She breathed in deeply, soaking in the majestic feeling as much as she could. It was exhilarating, lifting her spirits and heightening her senses. It washed over her, cleaning her of impurities that she didn't know even existed.
Unconsciously, Daphne reached forward, wand clutched tightly and cast alohomora. The familiar rush of magic left her, seeping into the door. With an audible groan the door cracked open, a tidal wave of magic hurtling into her.
"Wow." Potter breathed, echoing her thoughts. Glancing to the side, Daphne saw how his mouth was open and his pupils wide. His skin was flushed, and he was breathing quickly. In other words, he looked exactly like she felt.
As she watched, Potter hesitantly stepped forward, gingerly resting his hand on the door handle. His eyes were vibrant with a need. A need that Daphne shared. To know. TO understand what was creating this aura of pure magic. But Daphne hadn't been raised to be stupid and careless.
"Potter." Daphne quietly said, cutting off the boy's advance, "Are you sure? We don't know what's giving off that magic. It could be something dangerous."
"No risk, no reward, Greengrass." Potter grinned, before he furrowed his brow, pain appearing in his eyes, "Unless it's the Nameless King. Then no reward is worth the risk."
Daphne ignored his last sentence, likely another one of his meaningless references, "Potter. Don't jump into this like a Gr- "
A sound from the corridor behind them spurred both of them into action. Swiftly, they squeezed through the door. They both stood stock-still, Daphne holding in her breath, her ears straining for the tell-tale sound of footsteps.
There was nothing, only the sound of someone breathing heavily and it was one their side of the door. Daphne shot a look at Potter to quiet, if his loud breathing gave them away she would make him suff- Her eyebrows shot up as she saw Potter wasn't breathing and was shooting her a similar look she was giving him, but where was the breathing coming from then?
Slowly, unwillingly, Daphne dragged her eyes to the side, fear welling in her stomach. Her blood froze as she saw the waking three headed dog, a Cerberus her mind told her. It was shaking it's three heads, slobber flying from them as its three pairs of eyes rapidly blinked.
Daphne muffled a squeak when the pairs of eyes settled on her, initially filled with confusion as if wondering what these two little meatbags were doing in its lair. But her horror grew as hunger slowly started to appear in its eyes, a ravenous hunger, seemingly unending as it drew Daphne in.
The Cerberus stood up; its lips pulled up into a toothy grin. It continued staring at Daphne and Potter, excitement filling the air. Until they moved simultaneously.
"Move." Daphne screamed, jumping to the side, crashing into Potter and sending them both sprawling onto the floor. One of the dog's heads snapped through where she had just been, missing her by barely a few inches.
Daphne rushed to stand up, only to see another head crashing towards them. She backpedalled, Potter following her, dodging the head. But too late she realised another head was arcing their way. It slammed into Potter, sending him flying against her. They slammed into the door, forcing it open as they hurtled through it.
They hit the wall with a sound thump, Daphne swore she heard a crack. Jumping upwards, she staggered to the side as her head pounded and she grew dizzy. She reached out, grabbing the nearest object to steady herself.
But her mind cleared slightly when slobber hit her, flying towards the door from the open door. The open door! She hurriedly raised her wand, although her aim was still slightly off. Her eyes grew wide with fear as she saw three hunger filled gazes staring at her through the door. She sighed in relief when she Cerberus was too big to fit through the door; its heads were crashing against it repeatedly as it tried to break through.
"Potter." She gasped, her breath rushed, realising she was holding onto him, "Th- the door. We need to close it!"
Blearily, she managed to catch sigh of him nodding, before she focused her, still dizzy, sight on the doorway. Breathing in, aided by the aura of pure magic, she drew her magic in, coiling it into a tightly held ball of power in her chest. Then she willed.
Thrusting her wand forward, she poured her magic forward, sending it out as a maelstrom of ice. Next to her, Potter did the same, sending a torrent of lightning towards. Both elements impacted into the Cerberus at the same time, hitting into it with the force of a speeding train. The Cerberus was forced backwards, and Daphne pulled her wand to the side, sending the door crashing back into place as the tell-tale click of the lock sounded.
She fell backwards, sliding on the wall till she rested on the floor, her body devoid of energy. Her head bobbed forward; her hair plastered to her skin by her sweat. Potter collapsed next to her, his wand rolling from his fingers as he sat there, boneless.
"Potter." She gasped, wanting to hex him, but too tired too, "I hate you."
Potter let out a choked laugh, "Don't worry Greengrass. The feeling's mutual.
Well, here you go. The first chapter of Endless Possibilities. This story started out differently and just mutated into what you see before you. I only published this because I felt like it, so yeah I hoped you enjoyed the weirdness of my mind.
Review.
Tell me who was your favourite character, POV. What your favourite moment was. I appreciate the feedback, and this will help me plan what to write in the next chapter.
Do you guys prefer one long chapter like this, or two smaller ones?
Be aware, the update schedule for this will be very sporadic as I am just writing this when I feel like it, and usually just a one-time hours long session.
Ciao.
