"Twas Halloween evening, and through the abode,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a toad.
Jack-o-lanters are hung on the gallows with care,
To guide Sister Witch as she flies through the air,
Drawn by eight beautiful bats. And she calls out to them,
'Come Flitter, come Flutter, come Flapper and Flier.
Come Chitter, come Chatter, come Vicious Vampire.'"
Chapter 11: Halloween
September faded into October. And Erica recovered from her first transformation at Hogwarts.
Hermione had been beside herself when she'd woken the night after the full moon to discover that Erica had spent the night in the hospital wing. Erica had been asleep when she'd come to visit, but Madam Pomfrey had told her Hermione had been more than a little worried.
Seamus and Dean had come to visit as well, and though she had been groggy, Erica had been awake for their visit. They'd told her all about their pleasant nap in History of Magic before Madam Pomfrey shooed them out, claiming Erica needed her rest.
During afternoon break, Harry and Ron trickled into the hospital wing.
"Blimey, what's wrong with you?" Ron exclaimed.
Erica laughed a bit, and though her head still ached, it was no longer pounding.
"I get migraines," she said. "Yesterday was a bad one, so I came here. Madam Pomfrey insisted on keeping an eye on me."
"Migraine?" Ron asked, unfamiliar with the word.
"A really bad headache," Harry explained.
"A gross oversimplification, but essentially, yes," Erica confirmed. "A really bad headache."
"You mind giving me one?" Ron grumped. "I'd take anything over Binns."
Erica laughed lightly once more, but her eyes were beginning to droop.
"Tired?" Harry asked.
Erica yawned. "My migraines sometimes keep me from sleeping properly," she forced out.
Harry nodded. "Yeah, I've got a cousin like that."
Erica snorted. Harry had told her all about his Muggle family. The Dursleys. They sounded rotten, the lot of them. Erica had been sure she'd blow her top when Harry confessed that his first bedroom had been the cupboard under the stairs.
Erica was tempted to give the Muggles a piece of her mind a la Howler, but she settled for giving Harry the next batch of sweets and pastries her mom sent.
Though, after the full moon she'd just had, she was tempted to keep one or two for herself.
Harry and Ron were soon forced to get to class, and Erica was left to nap the afternoon away.
When the end of classes rolled around, Erica was beginning to feel more like herself. Her appetite was returning, some of her energy was back, and her brain no longer felt so stuffed with cotton.
That was when she remembered the pile of homework that was no doubt waiting for her, and she was half-tempted to give herself another headache.
But the sight of Hermione walking into the hospital wing, two book bags in her arms, dashed that thought.
"You're awake!" Hermione gasped. "Oh, I was so worried!"
Hermione dashed over and dropped into the chair next to Erica's bed.
"Yep. I heard you came by this morning. I'm sorry I wasn't awake to see you."
"Madam Pomfrey says your migraine was worse than you let on," Hermione fussed, half-scolding.
Erica smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, just a little." She cleared her throat. "Last night, it, uh, got worse. So I took your advice and came here. Madam Pomfrey insisted on keeping me for a day."
"Well, good," Hermione said. She then lugged one of the book bags, Erica's, onto the bed. "Now, I don't want you to fall behind, so I brought your things."
Erica blinked, but Hermione wasn't done.
"You can't fall behind. It's only been one month. And besides, you're fun to do homework with. Now, I copied my notes for you from today. History of Magic, Charms, and Defense. So, it should be relatively easy to get caught up with the assignments."
Erica blinked again. Hermione had made copies of her notes? For her?
"That was very thoughtful, Hermione." Erica smiled genuinely at the girl. "Thank you."
Hermione blinked, as if not having expected the gratitude. Then smiled wider than Erica had ever seen and nodded.
"So, am I forgiven for our nighttime fiasco?"
Hermione sniffed. "You are."
Erica giggled a little. "Harry and Ron aren't all bad."
"I just don't understand why they didn't take it more seriously. We could've been caught or expelled."
"I don't understand it either," Erica admitted. "But then again, we're all different people. Not everyone is going to value the same things as us."
Hermione shrugged, but still seemed frustrated. "I suppose."
Erica shook her head. "Let's just get to homework. Tell me what I've missed."
Hermione was great to do homework with. And she understood the material so thoroughly that Erica almost felt like she hadn't even missed class.
If not for last night's unfinished homework looming over her.
"Oh, I forgot." Hermione reached into her bag. "These were waiting for you."
Erica perked up as she took the letters. There were three of them.
Her mom, Remus, and one unfamiliar.
But Erica resisted the urge to tear into them. That would be rude to Hermione.
So the girls simply continued with their homework.
About thirty minutes before dinner, Madam Pomfrey fussed over Erica for a final time.
"You are my patient, and you will be ready when I say you are," Madam Pomfrey said, checking Erica's temperature.
"But I feel much better," Erica protested, and it was true. She wasn't 100% yet, and she probably wouldn't be until tomorrow at the earliest, but she felt better. "I'm hungry, Madam Pomfrey."
"I can have dinner sent up." The matron now checked Erica's pulse.
"Madam Pomfrey, please?"
The matron sighed.
"Oh, all right! But —" Erica's smile dimmed, "— if you're feeling weak or woozy in any way, you will come right back here. And Miss Granger will see to that."
Hermione eagerly agreed.
Erica grumbled to herself.
"As soon as I finish my homework, I'm going to bed anway," she muttered.
"Good." Madam Pomfrey pushed a vial into Erica's hands. "Take this tomorrow morning. It's an Invigoration Draught, and you'll need it."
Erica didn't doubt that, so she slipped the vial into her bag.
"Thanks, Madam Pomfrey!"
Then Erica left with Hermione. And while she knew she could've stayed in the hospital wing longer, she was glad to be out and about again.
The sooner she got on with her life, the sooner things could return to normal.
~)8(~
Dear Erica,
How are you feeling, sweetie? Is everything okay? Everything normal? Nothing went wrong? Oh, I just want to make sure you're okay. I know this last week couldn't have been easy for you.
Well, I'm glad you're making friends, sweetheart. Harry and Ron sound nice, and so does Hermione (Her-my-own-nee, right?). And Seamus and Dean. And Neville. Oh, and Molly did warn you about her twins, though I'm sure they mean no harm. Just some little teasing. Though I admit, I've never heard of anyone who lives for trouble like those two seem to.
Two things.
One, Mrs. Weasley was kind enough to take me to Diagon Alley again and I've gotten myself an owl. I really don't want to burden Donna with too many packages over the long journey she has to make. So don't be alarmed if an unfamiliar owl delivers something from me.
He's a great horned owl, and his name is Archimedes. I was in a Sword in the Stone mood. He's really great company! Better than I expected. I mean, I know Donna is great, but so is he. He's so funny. He's always watching me when I'm cooking in the kitchen, and he likes to watch movies with me. I've put a perch in all the rooms for him. He seems to like Disney movies as much as we do.
Erica smiled at the small photograph of the owl. Her mom must've taken it. He was surly-looking, but if her mom said he was good company, then he must've been.
Two. We've found a donor and I've got an appointment tomorrow at the clinic. There's no guarantee it will take or that I'll get pregnant the first time around, but this is happening. You're going to be a sister, Erica.
Erica beamed. And the good news was doing wonders for her after-transformation funk.
Anyway, I'm sorry this letter is so short. I just wanted to check on you. I'm sorry I'm not able to be with you, sweetheart. But I know they're taking good care of you at Hogwarts.
I'll send some more pastries and a camera with my next letter.
Love,
Mom
Erica sat back against the headboard of her bed. A letter from her mom had been exactly what she needed. Her mom, even in written form, made everything better.
Dear Erica,
I'm sorry it's taken me so long to write back. But it makes me really happy to know that you're having a good time at Hogwarts. I know what you mean, when you said that Hogwarts felt like your home. I felt the same way. Despite how nervous I was about everything, I felt more at home at Hogwarts than I did with my parents. Don't get me wrong, my parents were loving, and kind, but the Wolfsbane Potion didn't exist when I was a child, so I was very sheltered. My parents didn't really allow me to leave the house, fearing that someone would discover my secret and come after me. They almost didn't let me attend Hogwarts. But Professor Dumbledore changed their minds, and my years at Hogwarts were the best of my life.
Congratulations on being sorted into Gryffindor. I, too, was in Gryffindor House. The Sorting Hat debated on whether to put me in Ravenclaw, but it quickly decided not to. And trust me, if the hat decided to sort you in Gryffindor, that is where you belong. Regardless of how we view ourselves. Daring and nerve are not all Gryffindor is about. And courage comes in many forms. Whether that form is a heroic knight, a fearless prankster, or a quiet, studious girl brave enough to continue school despite prejudice and odds. You are brave, Erica. Never doubt that.
There is no better Head-of-House than Professor McGonagall. She is strict, but fair. She will push you to do your best and a bit more, but she genuinely cares for her students. She will take good care of you.
I wish I'd had more respect for her when I was at school. Me and my friends spent most of our time being our professors' worst nightmares. Don't follow my example.
Any more progress with making friends? You mentioned you and Hermione could be friends. What about those boys, Seamus and Dean?
No, I did not know Harry Potter was in your year. But I am not surprised he's in Gryffindor — both his parents were. I'm glad he's made some friends too.
My favorite subjects… Well, I can say that I was a better student than my friends. They were all slackers. But I really liked Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Charms as well. I imagine Professor Flitwick is still the Charms professor? But I struggled with Potions. It was never my best subject. I had it with Professor Slughorn, who has since retired. He was well-meaning, but not necessarily the best teacher. I honestly couldn't say much about Professor Snape, though. I only knew him when we were at school together. But he is brilliant with potions. Always was. I imagine you are lucky to have him as a professor.
No, I'm afraid I don't have any tips for navigating the castle. The staircases move randomly, so it's impossible to predict when and where one will shift. Though I do recommend never asking the portraits for directions, except perhaps the Fat Lady. Especially the portrait of Sir Cadogan, the mad knight. He's a nightmare. But Nearly Headless Nick, I'm sure, is willing to help if you've gotten yourself turned around.
And don't worry about Filch. It's his cat you have to worry about. If you can avoid his cat, you can avoid him.
I think our furry little problem will have passed by the time you receive this letter, so I assume some of your worries have passed. If not, just go to Professor Dumbledore, or write to me. I know what it's like. It took me years to stop worrying myself sick every month over someone discovering my secret or stumbling onto me in the middle of the night. If the professors have taken you to the Shrieking Shack, you don't need to worry. That was where I had my transformations, and you will be perfectly safe there. Everyone in Hogsmeade is too scared to come near it, and the Whomping Willow deters students.
I know the fears and worries won't disappear with only a few mere words, but I hope they've helped. I wish I'd had someone to talk to when I was at school. So never hesitate to write to me if you start feeling overwhelmed, or simply if you want to.
I'm glad you're liking Hogwarts, Erica. I look forward to hearing more about your year.
From,
Remus Lupin
Remus had been right when he said the fears and worries wouldn't disappear with a few words, but they had helped. Erica felt some unnoticed tension melt away from her at his assurances that no one would venture near the Shrieking Shack. She'd been told that by the Weasley twins, but it hit her differently coming from Remus. And she was further touched by him telling her she could write to him if she wanted.
Professor Dumbledore had told her over and over that she was safe, and that they would take care of her. But it felt so much different, so much more real, coming from a person who had been there. Coming from someone who shared the affliction, and the experience.
Sympathy, as much as it tried, was not empathy.
Erica thumbed her last letter. She didn't recognize the handwriting.
Dear Erica,
How are you doing dear? Is Hogwarts treating you well? How about my sons? Fred and George haven't given you too much trouble, have they?
Erica smiled. Mrs. Weasley!
Ron's mentioned you in a couple of his letters. I'm so glad you seem to be making friends. I can't imagine it's easy being the lone American at Hogwarts. And congratulations on being sorted into Gryffindor House! I knew you would be! Told my husband so and everything. My son Percy is your prefect, so don't be afraid to go to him if you need anything.
Well, dear, I just wanted to check in on you, to make sure you're doing okay. Don't forget — you can write to me if you need anything. Study hard, and have fun, dear!
Molly Weasley
Erica's heart warmed. She had never imagined a year ago when Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall showed up at her front door that she would have so many people helping her through her transition. She never could've imagined so many people caring for her. But it was reality. Her reality. A better reality than she had ever hoped for.
So when Erica fell asleep that night, it was with a lighter heart than she'd had since she was bitten.
~)8(~
As October passed them by, so did another full moon, another week of awful potions, more flying lessons with Slytherins, and Erica's 14th birthday. No one knew, of course. Her age wasn't something she was quite eager to share with her classmates, but she'd gotten a wonderful box of gifts from her mom and extended family, so it was good.
Her mom had packaged her a small, homemade cake along with three (three!) new books, a disposable camera, and a collection of new teas. Erica was ecstatic, and she couldn't wait to crack into her new books. Or her cake. Or her tea!
But for the most part, October 29th continued like any other regular day.
Not that the first years had mastered the basics of magic and theory, their lessons were becoming more and more interesting. And between the interesting lessons and strengthening friendships she had with Hermione, Ron, and Harry (separately, of course), as well as Seamus, Dean, and the Weasley twins, two months passed in the blink of an eye.
When the castle woke on Halloween morning, everyone woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. Even better, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly, something they had all been dying to try since they'd seen him make Neville's toad zoom around the classroom. Professor Flitwick put the class into pairs to practice. Erica was paired with Parvati. Harry was with Seamus. Ron and Hermione were paired together. It was hard to tell who was angrier about this. Hermione may have forgiven Erica since the whole three-headed dog fiasco, but she still hadn't spoken to Harry or Ron since the day Harry's broomstick arrived.
"Now, don't forget the nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" Professor Flitwick squeaked, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important too — never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."
It was very difficult. The first years swished and flicked, but the feathers they were supposed to be sending skyward remained resolutely on the desktops. At one point, Seamus got so impatient that he prodded the feather with his wand and set fire to it — Harry had to put it out with his hat.
Ron, at the next table, wasn't having much more luck.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill.
"You're saying it wrong," Hermione snapped at him. "It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."
"You do it, then, if you're so clever," Ron snarled.
Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand, and said, "Wingardium Leviosa!"
Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.
But at the same time it had, another feather had risen into the air, much higher, delicately dancing and weaving its way around.
"Oh, well done!" Professor Flitwick cried, clapping. "Everyone see here, Miss Addams and Miss Granger have done it!"
Indeed, the second feather had been charmed by Erica. No one was surprised that the first two people to succeed at the spell were Erica and Hermione.
But Hermione's success put Ron in a bad mood for the rest of the class. And as the class continued, it only worsened.
"It's no wonder no one can stand her," he said to Harry about Hermione as they pushed their way into the crowded corridor, "she's a nightmare, honestly. At least Erica isn't such an insufferable know-it-all."
Someone knocked into Harry as they hurried past him. It was Hermione. Harry caught a glimpse of her face — and was startled to see that she was in tears.
"I think she heard you."
"So?" Ron said, but he looked a bit uncomfortable. "She must've noticed she's got no friends."
"Ahem."
Behind them, Erica stared at them with a raised eyebrow, her eyes dark. Harry and Ron paled.
"I'm her friend." Erica's voice was rarely ever so cold. "But I'm not sure I want to be yours anymore."
Erica hurried after Hermione.
~)8(~
"Hermione?" This was the third girl's bathroom that Erica had checked. "Hermione, are you here?"
"Go away!"
The girl's voice was shrill, but thick with tears. And as Erica stepped into the bathroom, there was no mistaking the sound of crying coming from the one closed stall.
"Hermione… can I come in?"
"Why? So you can make fun of me too? So you can say Ron was right?"
Fresh sobs waved out from the stall.
"No," Erica said, her voice kind. "No, not at all. I want to come in so I can tell you how wrong he was."
There was a pause, but Hermione continued to cry.
"But he's right!" she gasped eventually. "I am a know-it-all. I always have been. I try not to be but I just…"
Hermione continued to sob.
Erica slid to the floor outside the stall, simply offering her presence. If Hermione needed to rant and get it out, then Erica would let her. If she simply needed someone there, Erica would be there. If she needed a hug or a shoulder, Erica would provide it.
There had, after all, been a time in Erica's life where she'd had none of that. And she never wanted anyone, anyone, to ever feel so alone.
Hermione continued to cry. And cry. And cry. And Erica simply continued to sit with her. About an hour passed, and Hermione's sobs changed to light hiccoughs, and little sniffles.
Five more minutes passed.
The bathroom stall clicked open.
Hermione didn't make any more to get up, so Erica simply moved into the stall and closed the door once more.
Seeing Erica there, with an open and concerned look on her face must've struck something in Hermione, because she launched herself into the other girl's arms and began to cry again.
Erica let her get it out. She wondered how long this had been bottled up.
Eventually, Hermione pulled away and wiped her eyes.
"Thanks, Erica," she mumbled. Erica smiled gently and gripped the girl's hand.
"You're my friend, Hermione. You don't need to thank me."
Hermione gave a watery smile.
"You're missing class."
"Who cares?"
"You'll fall behind," Hermione argued.
"Eh." Erica shrugged. "We're already the best in the year. So I doubt it."
Hermione giggled a little, but her face fell. "I'm sorry I've been so annoying. I know you've thought so too."
Erica frowned. "That's Ron talking, not Hermione. My friend, Hermione Granger, is smart and studious and proud of it. Ronald Weasley, on the other hand, is a cootie-infested eleven-year-old boy. What does he know?"
Hermione giggled again. "Cooties, Erica? Are we eight? Cooties aren't real."
Erica grinned. "They are when you're the only daughter of a single mother."
Hermione laughed again, but sobered. "Your parents are divorceD?"
Erica shook her head. "Actually, I never knew my biological father. My mom's pregnancy was an accident, and he was never really in her life. So it's always been just the two of us."
"I'm sorry," Hermione said.
"I'm not." Erica shrugged. "I didn't need a dad to be happy. And my mom didn't need a husband to complete her or help raise me."
Erica began to smile as she talked about her mom. "She owns a bakery back home in Nebraska. And it's really successful, too. So I grew up surrounded by sweets and pastries. We have extended family, but for the most part, it's just the two of us. And now, maybe three of us." Erica beamed. "My mom wants to have another kid."
Hermione smiled. "A sister?"
"Of course," Erica scoffed. But she smiled at Hermione. "What about you? Any siblings?"
"No," Hermione said. "Just me, Mom, and Dad. They're both dentists."
"Oh, so no nightly sweets for you?"
Hermione giggled. "Nope. But they're really great. When I got my Hogwarts acceptance letter, they thought it was a joke at first, but then Professor McGonagall explained everything and they were really proud."
"Mine, too," Erica said. "When Ilvermorny…"
Erica trailed off. Hermione seemed curious.
"Why did you transfer?" she asked.
Erica cleared her throat awkwardly. She didn't want to lie. "Well… I have a genetic condition." Hermione gasped. "It presented in the last month of my first year at Ilvermorny. And, well… The school decided they didn't want to accommodate it."
Hermione gasped again. "That's awful!"
Erica nodded. "My condition is pretty rare, so I don't think they were even able to accommodate it. But all the same, come the end of the term, I was effectively expelled."
Hermione's reaction wasn't as extreme as Erica had expected. One of Hermione's worst nightmares was the possibility of being expelled, and to learn Erica actually had been… Well, her reaction was relatively minor. And the opposite of what Erica expected.
"That's completely unfair!" Hermione huffed. "Expelling you for something that wasn't even your fault — completely unfair!"
Erica was shocked, but touched. And guilty. If Hermione knew the truth… She'd have a much different reaction.
Disgust. But not for the situation. For Erica.
Erica tried not to think about it.
"Two months later, Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall came to my house and offered me a spot at Hogwarts. They said they'd had students like me before, and were prepared to meet my needs. But they had concerns. They didn't want me trying to adjust to both a foreign country and my condition, especially because my condition has some pretty serious symptoms, so they said I should wait a year, then restart my education."
Hermione nodded. Logically, that made sense.
"So, guess who's the oldest first year around?" Hermione's eyes widened, like she hadn't considered that. "Fourteen as of two days ago."
Erica smiled at the stupefied expression on Hermione's face. "Mom was worried about my leaving to come live in Europe, but she knew it was what was best for me. I miss her. More than words can say, but Hogwarts has already become like a second home to me. Even with poltergeists and greasy Potions professors and ignorant gingers."
Hermione giggled at that last bit, then looked at Erica, her eyes becoming wet once more.
"Thank you, Erica. Thanks for being here."
Erica took her hand. "I meant what I said, Hermione. You're my friend." Erica smiled. "And that's what friends do for each other."
Hermione beamed, and gripped Erica's hand back. "Friends."
~)8(~
The afternoon slowly slipped away, and Halloween evening rolled in. At one point, Parvati came to check on Hermione, but left when she saw Erica was with her. Other girls came into the bathroom throughout the evening, but Erica and Hermione simply sat in the bathroom getting to know each other better. They talked about their favorite books, their favorite subjects at Hogwarts (Transfiguration for Hermione, Potions for Erica, despite Snape), and what spells they were most excited to learn. Erica told Hermione all about the American magical community, and Hermione in turn told Erica about British culture and norms. The conversation then circled back to their favorite books.
"I was always a Roald Dahl fan, myself," Hermione said. "Matilda is just such a good book, and I've always related to her as a character."
"I've never actually read it," Erica confessed, "but I'll put it on the list. I've read a lot of older books, because that's what my mom likes. You know, The Hobbit, The Chronicles of Narnia, The Princess Bride."
"What's The Princess Bride?"
"Only one of the best books and films around."
"I'll see if I can find it at the library over Christmas break."
Night fell, and still Hermione and Erica stayed in the bathroom talking. Eventually, the rumbling of their stomachs became too much to ignore, and they both decided to head down to the feast, which had most definitely started by now.
Hermione's tears had long disappeared, but her eyes were still puffy. She wanted to splash some water on her face. She went to open the stall door, but Erica suddenly gripped her arm.
"Don't."
Hermione was shocked. Erica had gone white. Her nose was wrinkled, as if something smelled horrible, and her grip on Hermione's arm was tight.
"Do you hear that?"
The whisper was barely audible. Hermione was confused.
"Hear what?"
Erica grimaced, as if whatever she was smelling was getting worse.
Hermione, curious, sniffed. And grimaced.
"What is that?"
"I have no idea," Erica admitted.
The stench was a foul mixture of old socks and a public toilet that hadn't ever been cleaned.
Erica switched places with Hermione, and near-silently unlocked the door. She peered out.
There was nothing there.
Still, that smell and the footsteps she'd heard hadn't come from nothing. So she remained wary.
Hermione stepped out behind her, and two seconds later, they both froze.
The source of the smell and footsteps came into the bathroom.
It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite grey, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was incredible — in the worst sort of way. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor behind it because its arms were so long.
It was a troll.
And it slouched its way into the bathroom.
Erica and Hermione backed into a corner, white with terror. Erica withdrew her wand, but her mind seemed to be blank. Spells? Spells who?
Erica's mind flashed with hope that the troll was stupid enough to have not noticed her and Hermione. But that hope was dashed when the bathroom door slammed shut and locked with an ominous click.
The troll's eyes zeroed in on the girls. And somewhere in its tiny mind, it registered they were there.
Hermione and Erica screamed.
Erica pushed Hermione behind her, and held up her wand. But her hand was shaking so bad that even if she could remember any offensive spells, they'd never fly straight.
The troll advanced forward, beginning to raise its club, and destroying sinks on the wall.
The bathroom door slammed open, and Harry and Ron ran inside.
Erica snapped out of her terrified haze.
"Confuse it!" Harry yelled desperately. He seized a tap and threw it as hard as he could against the wall.
The troll lumbered around, blinking stupidly, to see what had made the noise. Erica seized the opportunity and grabbed Hermione.
"Come on! Hermione, come on! We need to get out of here!"
But Hermione was frozen. She couldn't move. She was still flat against the wall, her mouth open with terror.
Harry and Ron's constant noise-making was making the troll berserk. It roared and started toward Ron, who was nearest and had no way to escape.
Harry then did something that was both very brave and very stupid: He took a great running jump and managed to fasten his arms around the troll's neck from behind. The troll couldn't feel Harry hanging there, but even a troll will notice if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose, and Harry's wand had still been in his hand when he'd jumped — it had gone straight up one of the troll's nostrils.
Howling with pain, the troll twisted and flailed its club, with Harry clinging on for dear life; any second, the troll was going to rip him off or catch him a terrible blow with the club.
Hermione sank to the floor in fright. Erica gripped her wand. She had to do something. But what? What?
She and Ron raised their wands, and shouted the first spells that came to mind.
"Locomotor Mortis!"
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
The troll's legs locked together, and it wobbled dangerously, especially as its club suddenly flew out of its hand, rose high, high up into the air, turned slowly over — and dropped, with a sickening crack, onto its owner's head. The troll swayed on the spot and then, with its legs locked together, fell flat on its face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble.
Harry got to his feet. He was shaking and out of breath. Ron was standing there with his wand still raised, staring at what he had done. Erica looked paler than any of them had ever seen, and her entire body trembled.
It was Hermione who spoke first.
"Is it — dead?"
"I don't think so," Harry said, "I think it's just been knocked out."
Erica gave a confirming nod when she saw the troll was still breathing.
Harry bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll's nose. It was covered in what looked like lumpy grey glue.
"Ooh, that's so gross!" Erica moaned.
"Urgh — troll boogers," Harry agreed.
A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the four of them jump and look up. They hadn't realized what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll's roars. A moment later, Professor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Professor Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart.
Snape bent over the troll. Professor McGonagall was looking at Ron and Harry. Harry had never seen her look so angry. Her lips were white. Hopes of winning fifty points for Gryffindor faded quickly from Harry's mind.
"What on earth were you thinking of?" Professor McGonagall said, with cold fury in her voice. Harry looked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"
Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look. Harry looked at the floor. He wished Ron would put his wand down.
Then a small voice came out of the shadows.
"Please, Professor McGonagall — they were looking for me."
"Miss Granger!"
Hermione had managed to get to her feet at last.
"I went looking for the troll because I — I thought I could deal with it on my own — you know, because I've read all about them."
Ron dropped his wand. Hermione Granger telling a downright lie to a teacher?
Erica looked equally as stupefied.
"Erica followed me, she tried to talk me out of it, but I didn't listen, and dragged her with me. If Harry and Ron hadn't found us, Erica and I'd be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose, Erica locked its legs, and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come fetch anyone. Erica protected me, but it was about to finish us off when Harry and Ron arrived."
Harry, Ron, and Erica tried to look as though this story wasn't new to them.
"Well — in that case…" Professor McGonagall said, staring at the four of them, "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?"
Hermione hung her head. Harry was speechless. Hermione was the last person to do anything against the rules, and here she was, pretending she had, to get him and Ron out of trouble. It was as if Snape had started handing out sweets.
"Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," Professor McGonagall said. "I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get to Gryffindor Tower. Students are finishing the feast in their Houses."
Hermione left.
Erica shuffled uncomfortably, and her hands finally stopped shaking enough for her to pocket her wand.
Professor McGonagall turned to Harry and Ron.
"Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points. And Miss Addams," Erica looked up, "it is admirable, staying beside your friend and protecting him in the face of danger. You, too, have won Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go."
The three hurried out of the chamber and didn't speak at all until they had climbed two floors up. It was a relief to be away from the smell of the troll, quite apart from everything else.
"We should have gotten more than fifteen points," Ron grumbled.
"Ten, you mean, once she's taken off Hermione's."
"Would you both rather detention?" Erica raised an eyebrow at them. "Professor McGonagall was lenient. If not for Hermione, it would have been worse."
"Good of her to get us out of trouble like that," Ron admitted. "Mind you, we did save her, and you, Erica."
Erica's glare was worsening, and Harry quickly reminded Ron, "They might not have needed saving if we hadn't locked the thing in with them."
"Or if you hadn't been a jerk and made Hermione cry."
Ron's face reddened.
They had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.
"Pig snout," they said and entered.
The common room was packed and noisy. Everyone was eating the food that had been set up. Hermione, however, stood alone by the door, waiting for them. She immediately hugged Erica. Then, the girls and boys stared at each other. There was an embarrassed pause. Then, none of them looking at each other, they all said, "Thanks," and hurried off to get plates.
But from that moment on, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Erica Addams all became friends. There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them.
Again, I'm mass posting today. Four more chapters to go!
Sammiemoosam