A/N: Look at that! I'm still alive! Maybe take a bit longer (lol) for the next chapter because it actually ISN'T just sitting around waiting to be editted... But there is still hope. Hope this satisfies everyone's thirst for more. It's a long one, maybe that will make up for my extended absence. Please R&R and I'll love you for it! (I'll love you for doing anything to this story rly...reading, viewing, singing, writing AU AUs, setting it on fire, etc...) ALso I'm quite sure I'm very inconsistent with these author notes. :/ Damn my perfectionism that will force me to do something about that. Sometime. In the future. ANyways; enjoy. Please.
Sure enough, September blends into October. Henri and I exchange letters, and I sign the both of us up for the Daily Prophet. For a society that considers itself so advanced, it really lacks from the use of the internet. I've had discussions on the topic with Hermione, and both of us think it's really backwards. The dismissal of muggle technology will be the downfall of the wizarding world.
The end of October brings the fiery colours of autumn and Hallowe'en. The spooky atmosphere of the castle is palpable, the energy of the occasion humming in the air and sending my stomach churning with excitement. When I enter the Great Hall with Sarah, Sam and Seamus - who still has a bit of soot on his face after his earlier Charms class - after Astronomy, the four of us stand awed for a few moments.
Pumpkins float around above the tables, holding candles and sending everyone bright grins with flaming mouths. Live bats flutter around them, setting some of them bobbing slightly. As with the start-of-term banquet, the food hasn't yet arrived on the shiny gold plates on the tables. Just visible through the clouds of bats, the ceiling shows a dark sky occasionally illuminated by streaks of lightning.
We separate to sit at our house tables, Sam and Seamus joining the group of red and gold clad eleven-year-olds at the similarly decorated table. About half our Hufflepuff classmates are in the Hall already, having come from the same class as us. We slide into seats between Hannah and Justin just as the food appears on the platters.
My plate doesn't get emptied. No-one's does. About five minutes after the food arrives, so does a very distressed Professor Quirrell. He sprints up to Dumbledore's chair, terror written into his features, and collapses onto the table just long enough to gasp out, "Troll - in the dungeons - thought you ought to know." He crumples onto the floor in a dead faint, seconds before the Great Hall erupts in chaos.
Silence falls only after Professor Dumbledore shoots several purple firecrackers from the end of his wand.
"Prefects," he commands, "lead you houses back to the dormitories immediately!"
"You lot! First-years, come on!" Gabriel is winding his way over to us. "Follow me, stay close." He leads us out of the hall, initially keeping our group with the Gryffindors. I can hear Percy Weasley's voice clearing their way ahead. Two more familiar voices catch my attention as their owners squeeze past me, deviating from the Gryffindor group.
"...about her?"
"She doesn't know about the troll."
"Oh, all right. But Percy'd better not see us." Ron doesn't sound too pleased with whatever it is the two of them are planning. I follow them with my eyes, until they duck out of the group and down a deserted side corridor. I tell Sarah I'll meet her in the Common Room later, and she looks like she's going to protest, so I don't give her the chance. I make my way to the back of the group, watch as Professor Snape hurries past and down the same corridor, then set off in pursuit of the two Gryffindor boys.
"Harry! Ron!" I hiss, keeping my voice just above a whisper, aware of Snape's proximity. The boys visibly startle and I suppress a laugh.
"John! What are you doing?! You're supposed to be going to your Common Room!" Ron hisses back.
"So are we, Ron," Harry says. I nod at him to indicate my point.
"Where are you going?"
"Hermione's in the girl's toilets and doesn't know about the troll. We're going to get her," Ron explains. He looks a little guilty, then confusion crosses his face. "Can you smell something?" Harry and I both sniff, and are greeted by a nasty stench that has me resisting the urge to gag.
I can hear grunting and shuffling ahead of us, still too far away for Ron or Harry to have heard yet.
"Something's coming!" I say, pushing the Gryffindors into the shadows. For about two seconds they protest, then they stop to listen. We all peer down the corridor at a mountain of a creature moving towards us. In the moonlight it's even more hideous; twelve feet tall and ape-like in that it's arms are too long, dragging the wooden club it holds on the floor behind it. Tiny head, big body, short, thick legs, and a smell that could curdle milk.
It stops next to a doorway, peers in, and then the rest of its body follows its head into the room. We creep along the wall until we're a few feet away from the offending door.
"The key's in the lock," Harry mutters. "We could lock it in."
"Good idea," Ron agrees nervously. Harry, being the closest to the door, lunges forward, slams the door shut and locks it. At his success, I feel Ron relax minutely beside me.
"Yes!" they cheer with victory. I start to frown - I can hear a little through the door, and it sounds like someone's in there.
"John, you coming?" Harry asks, already halfway down the corridor with Ron, grinning from his success.
"What if there's someone in -" I'm cut off by a high, petrified scream resounding from the locked door.
"Oh no," Ron understates.
"The girl's toilets!" I realise with dread.
"Hermione!" the Gryffindors shout together. I'm already at the door, the key turned and the slab of wood swinging open. Entering together, the sight greeting us is - not Hermione Granger. Ravenclaw Maggie Hoyle is darting around the troll, yelping as it swings for her.
"Maggie!" A cry comes from one of the toilet cubicles. A door swings open and a red faced, teary eyed Hermione emerges. Her eyes widen at the sight before her and she shrieks, nearly fainting. The new movement attracts the troll's attention, and he turns towards her, the club smashing several sinks. It starts advancing on her, and that's when we shake out of our horror.
"Confuse it!" Harry cries desperately, throwing a tap across the room. The troll stops and blinks around, looking for the source of the noise. It spots Maggie again, huddled under a sink in a corner, making herself as small as possible. It starts advancing on her. Ron throws a pipe at the beast, which bounces off its shoulder with no effect.
"Oy, pea-brain!" he yells at it. The troll isn't paying any attention. As it lunges for her, Maggie dives out the way and onto the shards of broken sinks. While she's down, the troll grabs her by her left ankle, hoisting her upside down and raising its club to swing. I jump forward, grabbing the club. Maggie's glasses have fallen off, cracking with the contact with the floor. She's squinting at the troll's club, preparing to dodge if it swings her way. At least I really hope that's what she's doing.
I can hear Harry yelling at Hermione, "come on, run, run!" but I don't see her move. Then Harry does something worthy of his Gryffindor title; he jumps onto the troll's back and sticks his wand up it's nose. I don't know if it was intentional or not, but the consequence is it suddenly gets a lot harder to hold the damned club. And Maggie's now being swung around.
Though her left foot is stuck, she's using her right foot as a lever, pushing against the troll's oversized fist, her foot slowly coming out of her shoe and sock. A bit of blood drips up her face from a slash on her cheek. I'm still holding the club, pitting my strength against the troll's. And even though I'm a superpowered alien, this thing is twelve feet tall and I can't match the brute strength of the troll. It's slipping. I really hope Maggie gets out soon.
I look over at her just as she pulls her foot free and lands on her hands, springing to her feet quickly. Not too quickly for me to miss the scar on her bare ankle, identical to mine, the one that burned itself into flesh two years ago, before her trouser leg falls to cover it.
"You!" I breathe in shock, staring at her. That shock is enough for me to loose my shaky grip on the club, and the troll sends it through the wall with the unexpected release. Maggie rushes over to Hermione, who's retreated in terror into the cubicle, oblivious to me. Ron's standing closer to the doorway, his wand raised and pointing at the club in the wall.
"Oops," he says with a grimace. "Wingardium Leviosa!" the club slowly extracts itself from the wall and Ron's magic directs it above the troll's head. The beast is swinging around in circles, trying to dislodge Harry and his wand, roaring in distress.
The club drops. Once again, Ron says, "oops" and I wonder if he had tried to cast the spell while I was holding the club. The troll sways then falls forwards, shaking the room with the impact of its unconscious landing. Ron's mouth is hanging open, staring at the troll in shock with his wand still out. Harry gets up, shaking with adrenaline. I'm doing the same, backed up against a wall. I understand now what Henri says about real fights being different, that no amount of training can prepare you. That and the shock that is Maggie Hoyle.
Maggie and Hermione emerge from the cubicle cautiously, and Maggie retrieves her broken glasses.
"Oculus Reparo," she mutters shakily, pointing her wand at the cracked lenses.
"Is it - dead?" Hermione asks quietly, peering at the ugly face. Harry stands in front of the troll, watching its face before bending down to retrieve his wand.
"I don't think so," he says. "I think it's just been knocked out." I make a strangled sound of agreement. "Urgh - troll bogies," he grimaces, wiping the lumpy grey slime off his wand on the troll's trousers.
"Is everyone okay?" I manage to ask, albeit shakily. No one's seriously hurt, though Maggie's quite scraped up and has a few gashes from the broken sinks. I'm startled by the sounds of footsteps quickly approaching. At the slam of a door, the others can hear them as well, and there's no time to react before Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Quirrell burst through the door.
Quirrell takes one look at the unconscious troll and retreats with a whimper, sitting on a toilet and clutching his heart. Snape leans over the troll, analysing it with his critical gaze. McGonagall is furious, to the point I'm not sure if I'm imagining the steam coming out her ears or not. Fortunately for me, her attention is more directly focussed on the Gryffindors in front of her. Unfortunate for Ron and Harry.
"What on earth were you thinking of?" Hell, she's scarier than Henri when he's mad. Ron still hasn't moved, his wand still in the air. Harry's looking ashamed. McGonagall moves her gaze past the two of them on to me. "Mr Smith, you too? All three of you, you're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitories?" Harry looks at the floor. I refuse to move, aware that I might give away Maggie and Hermione. I swallow, trying to return some moisture to my mouth. Snape shoots a piercing look around the three of us.
A small noise sounds from the cubicle behind me, accompanied by some shuffling. My eyes inadvertently flick in their direction as Hermione steps out of the shadows, followed by Maggie. I take a few steps to increase the gap between the Ravenclaw and myself. Snape glares at me.
"Please, Professor McGonagall - they were looking for me." I've never heard Hermione's voice sound so uncertain and quiet.
"Miss Granger!"
"I went looking for the troll because I -"
"We thought we could deal with it, because we were doing extra study on them last week," Maggie interrupts, meeting the Professor's eye steadily though her voice shakes a little. "If they hadn't found us, I'd be dead right now, and Hermione too probably. It had me upside-down and was about to use me as a piñata."
"John grabbed it's club, Harry stuck his wand up its nose and then Ron knocked it out with its own club after John let go. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish Maggie off when they arrived." Hermione quickly adds, her eyes darting around nervously, warily. Ron has finally unfrozen and lowered his wand.
"Well - in that case…" McGonagall's gaze sweeps over the five of us, finally returning to the girls. "Miss Hoyle, Miss Granger, you foolish girls, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?" Maggie finally turns her eyes away. Hermione hangs her head. I can't imagine what it's costing her, someone so against breaking the rules, to be taking punishment for something she didn't do.
"Five points from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw for this. I'm very disappointed in you both. Miss granger, if you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor Tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses." Hermione stumbles out of the ruined bathroom. "Miss Hoyle, I will escort you to the hospital wing. As for you three," Professor McGonagall rounds on us. "Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first-years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win five points for your house. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go."
Harry's the first to make a move to leave. Before I exit the room, my eyes stray back to Maggie and her one bare foot, picturing the scar hidden by her trousers. I'm out the door behind Ron before I can see her face go white and her eyes widen in horror at my gaze.
There's about two minutes of solid silence while we walk through the corridors. At the point where Harry and Ron go up and I go down, we allow ourselves to slow down and relax slightly with relief.
The silence becomes awkward, to the point where I just wave and cough out a 'night.' I stop at the Kitchens for some food, not quite prepared to spend the rest of the evening socialising over dinner. Sarah's watching the tunnel entrance when I get back to the basement, the food on her plate untouched and her eyes blazing. I sigh in resignation. I move to an empty, comfy corner to await my fate.
Sarah stands stiffly and marches over.
"Where have you been?! You could have been killed! There's a troll on the loose!" she hisses accusingly. I laugh briefly at the irony, before my relief washes over me and I fully dissolve into hysterics, tears running down my face. Sarah's face, initially affronted at my response, turns to confused and finally disturbed when I don't stop. I'm barely aware of the weird looks I'm getting from the rest of my house.
"John? Are you okay?" She's eying me warily. I've stopped laughing, clutching my stomach and leaning my head back on the armchair, catching my breath.
"Yeah, yeah. Fine," I grin at her, suppressing the urge to start laughing again. "Also troll is not on the loose," I roll my head along the cushion until I'm looking at her face properly. Her eyes widen.
"Oh my god! You didn't!" she shrieks, immediately covering her mouth with her hand.
"Uh… I think I'm going to go to bed now. Night Sarah," I say, avoiding her accusation and faking a yawn.
It's not until I'm lying in bed that it finally hits me: Maggie had One's scar on her ankle, but she was bleeding. She was bleeding. The charm is supposed to prevent that. Unless it's broken. My heart threatens to jump out of my chest hand-in-hand with my stomach. Between Maggie and the troll encounter, I don't get much sleep. That which I do is plagued by a senseless dream, one that's been repeating recently.
A golden cane with a hammer-like head and a painted black eye floats above a barren grey landscape. The painted eye seems to move, to be searching. It finds me, locking onto me and my every move like a predator hunting its prey.
The background suddenly changes dizzyingly to a dark forested scape, the staff half-submerged in the mud and leaf litter on the ground. Out of nowhere a long strip of fabric begins wrapping around the head of the thing, slowly taking the shape of a person. The eye is borne upwards, eventually coming to rest at the centre of the thing's head, which now no longer has the texture of cloth. It's black and oily, and opens a sticky mouth to reveal sharpened teeth. The words it utters aren't in any language I've ever heard, but somehow I can still understand what it is saying: 'One by one, I'll hunt you down. The Legacies will fall. And you will not know from whom it comes.' The words send a shudder up my spine. At first it seems like imagination, but soon the eye is very definitely glowing red, and with it comes pain. Pain like I'm being ripped to shreds, every inch of me, inside and out.
I wake up gasping for breath, shaking and in a cold sweat. I abandon sleep, even though the sun isn't even close to rising.
