**

Chapter 06: Halloween

**

"Concentrate on the spell, Harry." The hat said for the thirteenth time. It was the night before Halloween, and Harry was learning his first real spell. He really didn't know why the hat wanted the first one to be a sustained spell, and the hat wouldn't tell him directly. The hat simply said that when he figured out the spell, he would understand.

"I'm trying!" Harry exclaimed, growing frustrated. This had been going on for well over an hour, and it looked as if Professor McGonagall was getting tired of levitating the same object over and over. Harry thought that it must have been getting monotonous for her, especially since she'd only been levitating a feather. Professor Flitwick looked quite bored over in the corner as well. He'd come to help Harry learn the charm, and was quite interested in seeing how Harry would need to adapt the spell so he could use it. "It's the same stupid yellow color that it's been for the last hour!"

"Ok, I understand that, Potter, but you're not concentrating on the magic!" The hat said, growing frustrated with the boy's frustration. It was giving him a hat-ache. "Instead of just looking at the magic, try and see where it comes from, what the magic is doing, and how it's doing it. Focus all your senses on the spell, not just your eyes."

Harry was about to jerk the hat off of his head, but decided to try this one more time. He started at the feather, but couldn't make out much more than a yellow glow. The color was not so important, the hat told him, but it was a lovely golden yellow. Harry followed the trail of yellow back to his Professor's wand-tip. There, he noticed something. Swirling at the tip of the wand was a small miasma of colors, shifting from blue to green, with yellow mixed in. following the shifting colors back along McGonagall's arm, he noticed the next bit of interesting information. Her aura was pulsing slightly. He strained to make it out, it was so faint, but it was definitely pulsing.

There was a pattern to the pulses. Harry could almost hear the pattern when he concentrated on it. Shifting even more of his focus to the pulsing, he found he could hear it. It was a simple rhythm. Harry could even feel the pattern as he followed it down the Professor's arm again. This time, he could see the ball of swirling magic was actually swirling and mixing in time to the pulsing. He let his eyes travel even further, and found he could see small pulses of magic traveling down the yellow thread connecting the wand to the feather. He shifted his focus back to the feather and noticed something odd. The pulses were arranging themselves in some form of circular pattern. There were three distinct pulses, and they were forming some sort of shape. Harry could almost see it, but it was very blurry.

Shifting his focus back to his eyes, the sound faded, and the pattern became clear. "I see a pattern!" Harry said. This was more progress than he'd made in the last hour, and it was quite exciting.

"Very good, Potter." The hat said. "Professor, you may stop." Professor McGonagall let the feather drop. "Now, Potter, comes the fun part. I've looked into your mind to see the pattern that you saw, and it was just what I wanted to see. Now, we need to get you to be able to cast the spell yourself. Ok, first we get into what the pattern is. That pattern is how your magic is interpreting what you see. That is a facet of your scanning ability. Soon, you'll be able to identify these patterns, which will tell you what sort of spells wizards are using. For right now, we just need to know that that particular pattern is what your magic sees as a levitation charm. So, think about the pattern for a moment." Harry pictured the pattern he'd seen. It was quite simple, really, just a few squiggly lines. "It is quite simple, isn't it? That is a basic spell pattern for you. In this spell, there are no identifiers, which means that the spell remains the same no matter what you target with it. Some spells change dependant on what you are doing with them, such as most transfiguration spells. Let's not worry about these now, though."

"Ok, so what do I do?" Harry said. He was very anxious to work his first real spell.

"Close your eyes, Harry." The hat said. He could feel Harry's excitement, but needed Harry relaxed for this part of the process. "Visualize the pattern. Picture each and every detail, one symbol at a time." The hat used his special type of magic to project the image of the symbol more clearly into Harry's head. Once he was sure that Harry had a good mental picture, he took him further. "Remember the way you opened the door of the Draconus dormitory? Project your magic to your finger like you are opening the wall. Now, draw a circle in the air in front of you." Harry did as was told. There were gasps from both of the professors. "Keep your eyes closed!" The hat admonished him. "Concentrate on the circle. Now, draw the first symbol out. Follow that symbol with the next one, and make sure you place it in the right spot in the circle. Keep your eyes closed, Harry, it doesn't need to be perfect. Your magic will correct small imperfections in the symbol. Ok, now finish the circle off with the last pattern. Excellent. Open your eyes, Harry, but keep concentrating on the symbols you just drew."

Harry opened his eyes, and was shocked by what he saw. There, right in front of him, was a glowing yellow circle, with the pattern of symbols drawn neatly inside. It was quite pretty. "Wow" was the only response he could come up with.

"Keep concentrating on the symbol, Harry." The hat was speaking to him telepathically now, or in whatever way the hat spoke to his head. "Raise your hand to the symbol, and place the palm of your hand close to it." Harry did as he was told, and felt the symbol lock in place near his hand. "Now you can move the symbol around as you please. As long as you concentrate on it, it will follow your hand. Move your hand to point at the feather. Good, now use your finger, and point at the feather, directly through the symbol."

Harry did it, just as the hat told him to. The effect was very startling. As soon as he touched the symbol, a yellow beam issued forth from his finger, and headed towards the feather very quickly. However, it missed the feather by about an inch, and hit the table instead. The table rose about an inch off the floor, and fell back to the ground. Harry hadn't expected to feel a physical strain, and had let the table slip.

"Your aim was a bit off, Harry. I see you felt the physical effect of that spell also." The hat said. "Since this was your first time using this spell, your magic needs to get used to lifting objects properly. Until that happens, you won't be able to lift anything that you couldn't normally lift physically. Your magic is using your muscles as a gauge of what it should be able to do, and until you get past that, it'll be that way. That's why we start with a feather."

"Now I understand the reason you needed the sustained spell to teach me." Harry said. "It took me a long time to see the pattern, so the magic needed to be constant, right?"

"Exactly, Harry." The hat said. "Now, I believe it is time for bed. Tomorrow is Halloween, and it should be a big day for you, now that you can cast the spell that your classmates will be trying tomorrow. Now, you won't feel left out."

**

As it turned out, it would indeed be a big day for Harry. Not because he could finally perform magic along with the rest of his class, but because of what happened, both before and after the class.

The day started normally enough. Harry woke early, as he always did, showered in his private bathroom, which was private only because he was the only member of his house, and got dressed in his purple combat robes. He had caused a bit of a sensation when he'd shown up the first morning in different robes than everyone else, but wasn't punished for it. After Snape tried to take points for violating the dress code, Harry explained to him that one, Draconus house didn't play the house point game, and two, the combat robes he was wearing were the standard dress code for Draconus students. A quick visit with Professor McGonagall confirmed Harry's story, and Harry was allowed to attend classes in his rather strange uniform. It caused quite a commotion with the students a first. After all, even the purebloods hadn't ever seen proper combat robes.

Combat robes were exactly what they sounded like. They were robes specifically designed for wizards to fight in. Rather than dressy looking bath robes, these robes were closed on the front, with slits up both sides, making them resemble a poncho. A thick dragon hide belt was buckled around the waist, a silver buckle bearing the Draconus insignia holding it together. The cloak worn over top of the robes was black, hemmed with silver runes on each edge. Underneath the robes, a pair of black canvas pants was worm, the same silver runes embroidered around the cuffs and the waist. A shirt was also worn under the robes, equal parts black and purple, with the same runes around the cuffs, neck, and waist. The robes also were complete with dragon hide boots. On the whole, his uniform was quite expensive, so it was a good thing that he hadn't been asked to pay for it. All of it had been neatly laid out for him when he'd woken up the first morning.

Harry's favorite thing about his robes was their shimmer, however. The runes around the cuffs of his clothes were actually runic protection wards, woven right into the fabrics. Harry didn't know anything about runes, but could see the tightly leashed magic as it shimmered across the fabrics. The only reason he even knew that they were protection spells was because of Draco's revenge attempt. Using his influence as a child of a powerful figure, he had one of the older Slytherins try to curse him in the hallway. The spell had been some sort of itching curse, but it had splashed harmlessly across his cloak, and he didn't feel any irritation at all. He was allowed to retaliate, under the rules governing Draconus house, but chose to ignore the attack instead. Draco's face, as he witnessed the spell's failure, was revenge enough for him.

After getting dressed, Harry made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast. It was normally a short trip, since the castle always showed him the shortest ways to wherever he happened to be going, but today he wanted to take the long way, since he got up earlier than usual. He was really looking forward to his charms class that day. It felt really good to know that he could actually do the same kind of magic that his classmates were doing, even if it was done in a different way.

Breakfast was normal at his tiny table. As he understood the Great hall, each table was exactly large enough for each student to sit comfortably at his house table. Harry, being the only student in the Draconus house, had a very small table. As was usual, Harry was quite hungry this morning. Doing hard magic for the first time always both tired him out, and made him very hungry. Often times, he could offset the exhaustion by eating, but the night before, when he'd finally done the spell, it was bedtime, so he slept. Harry really enjoyed sleeping off his exhaustion. He always felt stronger in the morning. Last night's magic lesson hadn't really exhausted him, but he was a little more tired than normal. Harry figured that the use of an actual spell, rather than just pushing magic, made for more efficient use of his reserves, and didn't tire him as much. He didn't know it for a fact, so he'd have to ask the hat on his next lesson. It turned out that the hat was helping him visualize the spells for a reason. Now that Harry knew what he was looking for, the hat would help him identify patterns in the instant spells as well, like transfigurations, and some of the more offensive spells for dueling purposes.

After breakfast, Harry got ready for Herbology. He quite enjoyed the class, since he wasn't at a magical disadvantage in that class. He also loved to work in the garden at his Aunt's house, so the class was quite enjoyable for him.

Before he could leave the Great Hall, however, He was told by his keeper to report to the Headmaster's office. Apparently, there was some Ministry official that wanted to see him about something. Harry made his way to the office, and the Gargoyle once again jumped out of his way. Harry still had no idea what that was all about, but it was becoming common enough that he didn't give it much thought.

When he reached the top of the steps, he knocked on the door. He was called into the room, where he noticed not only the Ministry official, but also a small, pudgy man with a rather rat-like face. Taking a good look at this rat-like man, he could see the splotches of yellow in his aura. This was the man who was the rat.

"Good morning, Harry." Professor Dumbledore started. "About a month ago, you helped us to identify an unregistered animagus in our midst. He was taken from the school, sight unseen, and delivered into the hands of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. As you can probably guess from the name of the department, they are the equivalent of the muggle police department. Now, the story gets interesting. This man is Peter Pettigrew. Normally, Peter here would be charged with one count of failure to register, and be sentenced to some jail time and a fine from his Gringotts vault. However, Peter here is also currently deceased."

"What?" Harry said. This wasn't making any sense. "He doesn't look very dead to me."

"Precisely, Harry." The Headmaster said. "The circumstances of this man's supposed death are tied very closely to two other cases, also deemed closed. This man, since he is alive, can help us actually solve the other two cases much more satisfactorily. You are not familiar with the name Peter Pettigrew, are you, Harry?" Harry shook his head. "I see. That is to be expected, since you haven't been in contact with the Wizarding World since you were one year old. The circumstances will be made known to you in the future, I'm sure. For now, we need to gather evidence enough to re-open the cases. My friend, Mr. Dawlish, is here to witness these proceedings, and you are here to observe. What I want you to do is observe this man's magic closely, and tell me if you think he's lying."

Harry wasn't sure he really wanted to do this, but Dumbledore seemed to need his help. Mr. Dawlish was no friend, he could tell that much. "Dumbledore, I still don't get it. Why can't you just let the Aurors handle this?"

"Because, Mr. Dawlish, you've been handling it for a month already, and no progress has been made. Why is that?" Dumbledore asked.

Dawlish looked uncomfortable. "Our conventional means of interrogation doesn't work anymore."

"Interesting. And why is that?"

"There was an accident while brewing the proper potion, and he almost died." Dawlish said. "Once he was recovered, we tried again, but he showed an immunity to the potion."

"So, you couldn't interrogate him properly, correct?" Dawlish nodded. "Then let our young Magus here act as your lie detector. As I understand it," Dumbledore said, "Harry is very good at detecting deceit. I was told of your problems with his interrogation, and would like to help. I will ask the questions, Peter will answer them, and Harry will look for the lies. You can write these proceedings down, and take them to the Ministry. It will be a good experience for all of us."

"I'm not sure about this, Dumbledore. I should be handling the questioning, since I'm the Auror." Dawlish said.

Dumbledore was ready with a reply. "Yes, Mr. Dawlish, you are the Auror. That means that you are the only one here who can enter this conversation into an investigation as evidence. That means that you need to transcribe it yourself."

"I'll go along with this for now, but I will stop this if it gets out of hand." Dawlish said. Dumbledore didn't reply, and just turned his attention to Peter.

"Peter, I'm very interested to know the specifics of your survival, please tell us what you can." Harry could feel Dumbledore doing some sort of magic, but couldn't see it.

Peter squirmed, and his magic squirmed as well. "I was cornered on the street, right by twelve muggles. Sirius drew his wand, and sent a very powerful curse at me. It blew up the street, and killed all twelve of the muggles. I was caught in the explosion, and lost a finger. I suppose it was just luck that I even survived."

"Liar." Harry said. Peter looked at him incredulously. "This man, Sirius? He didn't draw a wand, and didn't curse you. You were caught in the explosion, but that's not how you lost your finger. Twelve muggles were killed, but luck had nothing to do with your survival."

Peter looked like he wanted to argue the point, but Dumbledore cut him off. "Harry doesn't know any specifics, Peter. He's merely reading your aura, and pointing out the lies you're telling."

"They're not lies!" Peter exclaimed.

"Liar." Harry said.

"Moving on." Dumbledore said. "Let's assume that, for the moment, you are being truthful. Why did you spend the next ten years hiding from the world?"

"I was afraid." Peter said. "If Sirius got word that I was still alive, he would have broken out of prison to try and finish the job."

"You're lying again." Harry said. "You were afraid, but it wasn't of this Sirius person. You were hiding from someone else."

"Assuming that you were hiding from Sirius Black, why were you so afraid?" Dumbledore asked. "Nobody has ever escaped from Azkaban before."

Peter's magic was getting frantic. "He has dark powers the rest of us can't even imagine!"

"He's panicking, and he's lying." Harry said. "He has no idea what kind of powers Sirius has, and doesn't really think that Sirius' powers, whatever they are, are dark."

"You're protecting him!" Peter yelled. "He betrayed your parents, and you're protecting him!" Harry was so stunned that he had trouble interpreting the tumultuous aura.

"He betrayed my parents?" Harry asked. He hadn't been told about that.

"Yes!" Peter said. Harry didn't have any trouble reading it this time.

"Liar!" Harry yelled. "You know that it wasn't him, which means that you know who it was!" The china set on the desk began to shake in Harry's anger. "Who was it?!"

"It was Sirius!" The man yelled.

"You're lying!" Harry screamed. "No more lies! Was it YOU?"

Peter's aura went absolutely nuts, and Harry could only think of it as a nervous breakdown. Peter's body went absolutely still, and his face paled. Harry could see him trying to fight his own aura, trying to force the lie to be true. "No…"

"Liar." Harry said. It was the only word he could say. He was completely stunned by the revelation. This was the man responsible for his parents' deaths.

Mr. Dawlish finally had what he needed. "Excellent work, Magus Potter, Professor Dumbledore. This was a very telling interrogation. We will now re-open the case of both the Potter murders, and the deaths of the twelve muggles. Magus Potter, we may need you to lend us your services again, when this man goes to trial. You'll be hearing from us."

Peter Pettigrew was restrained, and transported away in the next five minutes. Harry just sat there, totally oblivious to the world around him. He'd just found the reason he didn't have parents, and he couldn't stop thinking about it. He needed his Aunt Petunia. She'd know what to do. He didn't have any friends here, and nobody he could talk to.

"Harry?" Professor Dumbledore's voice broke him out of his thoughts. "Are you ok?"

Harry didn't want to talk to the Headmaster right now. He just wanted his Aunt Petunia. However, his Aunt was several hundred miles away, and couldn't come see him that instant. So, he swallowed his grief for the moment, and went back to business. "I'm alright, Professor. It's just a major shock to my system. I need my Aunt Petunia. Do you think she could come here?"

"I'll make the arrangements, Harry." Dumbledore replied. "Do you need anything now? I can excuse you from the rest of your classes today. This has been quite a shock."

Harry didn't want to dwell on it for the rest of the day. He'd wait until Aunt Petunia got there for that. "No Professor, I need to go to class today. I have to keep my mind occupied for a while."

"Very well, Harry." Dumbledore said. "It's just about lunch time now, so why don't you head to the Great Hall. I believe you have Charms after lunch. Professor Flitwick was most excited last night when you cast your first spell. Good luck."

Lunch was a somber affair for Harry, with the shock of finding his parents' betrayer just minutes ago. He only picked at his food a little, and didn't really eat much. About halfway through lunch, he managed to push the incident away from the front of his mind, and actually got some eating done. He would need his strength for Charms.

Both the Gryffindors and the Ravenclaws, who shared their Charms class, were very excited about learning to make objects fly. They'd been looking forward to it since Professor Flitwick made Neville's toad zoom around the room two weeks earlier. Hermione, the only Gryffindor who seemed to care about him at all, threw an apologetic look at him. She'd given him that same look every time the rest of the class had learned to cast a spell. She seemed genuinely sorry that Harry was seemingly unable to cast spells. Harry surprised her this time, however. He smiled widely back at her. He had this spell down already, and he was quite happy about that.

Professor Flitwick had the class pair off, and Harry looked for Hermione. She was the only one he really wanted to partner up with. Hermione, however, already seemed to have a partner in the form of Ron Weasley, the most ill mannered of the Gryffindor boys. He was nice enough, and Harry liked him a little, but the boy had no manners. He also hadn't really forgiven Harry for the incident on the train. Hermione seemed to like him less than Harry did, but partnered him without a word.

Harry ended up partnered with the Irish Gryffindor boy, Seamus Finnegan. He really didn't know much about the boy, but he did like the way he spoke. As cool as Seamus sounded, his accent seemed to get in the way of his magic. The incantation, Wingardium Leviosa, seemed to get stuck in his mouth, never making its way to his tongue properly. The feather never once reacted, except for the time when he prodded with his wand, frustrated with the feather's lack of response. As was usual for accidental magic, it reacted to Seamus' mood, and the feather was set on fire. Harry put it out with his hat. The hat, which had some sort of mild protection spell on it, was undamaged. Flitwick stopped by, and handed Seamus a new feather, and tried to give Harry five points for his actions. Harry politely reminded him that Draconus house did not participate in the house point competition.

Harry set about mastering his own version of the levitation charm, but found it was easier than he thought. As soon as he drew the circle, his concentration on the patterns pushed them right into the circle by themselves. The feather was easy t lift, and Harry could even make it move around a little bit by moving his finger around. Deciding that he had the spell mastered for the moment, Harry checked on how Hermione was faring. It didn't look good.

Not only was her partner's pronunciation wrong, but his movement was wrong as well. "Wingardium Leviosa!" He cried, waving his arm like a windmill.

Hermione had to duck out of the way to keep from getting poked. "Stop, stop, stop!" She implored. When she'd successfully stopped his wild arm movements, she continued. "You're going to put someone's eye out, doing that! Besides, you're saying it wrong. It's Win-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."

Ron was embarrassed to be told off by the girl. "You do it then, if you're so clever." He snarled.

Hermione wasn't put off by Ron's snarl, and certainly wasn't shy about showing off her skill. With a quick flick of her wand, and a clearly spoken "Wingardium Leviosa" the feather glowed yellow, and rose off the table, to hover about four feet from the ground.

"Oh, well done, Miss Granger, well done!" Professor Flitwick cried. "See here, everyone, Miss Granger's done it!"

Ron was rather livid that Hermione had done the spell before him, and frantically tried to make the spell work before class was over. The fact that he had not been able to, and she had helped other people, put him in a very bad mood.

"It's no wonder nobody can stand her!" Ron proclaimed loudly, after class was over. "She's a nightmare! Honestly!"

Harry, who was in easy earshot, thought that it was not only a terrible thing to say, but also not true. He actually liked Hermione, even though they weren't close. His thoughts were interrupted by a purple blur knocking him in the shoulder. The tingle of Hermione's purple aura was very sad as it washed across his skin. She's obviously heard what Ron had said.

"I think she heard you." Seamus said, looking a bit remorseful.

Ron, however, didn't look the least bit remorseful as he replied. "So? She must have realized by now that she hasn't got any friends."

Hermione didn't show up for the next class, but neither did Ron. As a small bit of revenge on Hermione's behalf, Harry asked the castle to keep Ron busy for a while. Harry wasn't sure what the castle was doing with him, but he guessed that Ron was on a very long journey to class, and he would arrive no earlier than the bell that ended the period.

Hermione wasn't seen for the rest of the afternoon, nor did she come to the feast. Harry overheard one of the Gryffindor girls, Parvati Patil say that she'd spent the afternoon in the girls' bathroom, crying. Ron seemed to be a bit more remorseful about the fact that he'd made her cry, but it didn't interfere with his appetite. Harry gathered some food into a napkin, intending to take it to her. Even if she wouldn't come to the Great Hall, that was no reason to starve. He could also offer her at least one official friend. He didn't have anyone in his house to be friends with, and he liked her the best of all the students he'd met so far. Since she was also alone, they could be 'alone' together.

Harry had just finished getting his food packet together when the Great Hall doors were pushed open. They got thrown open with such force that they banged against the walls. Harry didn't know that Professor Quirrel was that strong, but he was the one standing in the doorway. He made his way quickly to the center of the Hall, and stopped.

"Troll…In the Dungeon…Thought you should know." He said, then fainted dead away.

Complete pandemonium was the only way to describe what followed. Many of the other children screamed, the teachers looked worried, and there was a mass scramble to leave the Great Hall. Harry, however, stayed where he was, and asked the Castle what was going on. He got an image back, but didn't like what it was. A large, hulking figure carrying a club was wandering through the dungeons. A troll, Harry guessed. As with the giant creature from the third floor corridor, the castle didn't show him any details, just a silhouette.

Harry was shaken out of his thoughts by the sound of a dozen fireworks, coming from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand. He was getting the situation well under control, and his aura was flared, just to capture his audience. Harry, who could see it, wasn't phased much, although it was powerful. The rest of the school, however, froze on the spot. It was almost like a battle of wills. Headmaster Dumbledore was overpowering the entire student body's will to run with his will for them to stay. It was very impressive.

"Silence!" He thundered, even though the Hall had gone quiet with the fireworks. He continued in a much more civil voice. "Prefects, lead your houses to their dormitories. Teachers, follow me to the dungeons."

The prefects got their houses in order quickly, and almost all the students were headed for their dormitories. Harry didn't have a prefect for his house, so was exercising the loophole in the Headmaster's instructions to find the other student that was not headed for her dormitory. Hermione wasn't at the feast, so she didn't hear the Headmaster's instructions, and Harry doubted that anyone from her own house would think about her long enough to realize that she wasn't with them.

The Castle showed Harry the quickest way to the bathroom that Hermione was in, and Harry made his way there. Riding the wind was very difficult indoors, so he ran as fast as he could. She had to be warned.

Harry was just about to open the door to the bathroom, when the Castle sent him another message. His mind's eye flew back down the third floor corridor on the right hand side, and through the door. There, he saw the same big black shape, but it was agitated this time. In front of it were two smaller silhouettes. One was indistinct and blurry, but the other one was in sharp relief. Harry thought that it looked quite familiar, but couldn't place it.

Harry couldn't think about that now. He had to prioritize at the moment. Hermione's safety came first, and then he could worry about whatever was behind the door on the third floor. He opened the door

The girls' bathroom was nothing special, he noted. It really looked just like a boys' bathroom, except for the word "GIRLS" on the door. As soon as he entered, he knew that Hermione was here. There was absolutely no mistaking her purple aura.

"Hermione?" Harry said. "Hermione, can I talk to you?"

"Go away!" was the only reply. Harry could hear the sadness in her voice. He wanted to make her feel better, but now was not the time.

"Hermione, listen to me." Harry said. "It's me, Harry. We've got to get out of here. There's a troll in the Castle…" Harry broke off as the Castle sent him a new, much more urgent message. The lumbering figure of the troll was in the same hallway that they were in, and was heading towards the door.

Hermione, at the mention of the troll, gathered herself and stepped out of the stall. She was well aware of the rules, and knew that if there was a troll in the Castle, and then she should be in her dormitory.

She had just reached Harry, and was about to both thank him, and tell him off for not being in his dormitory, when the door was blown off its hinges by the large club of the mountain troll. Hermione backed up to the wall, terrified of it, but Harry set up in a defensive crouch, ready to protect Hermione.

The troll was very large, standing about twelve feet tall. It was heavy and bulky, but looked to possess a great deal of muscle mass. It was easy to spot the strength if one looked at how easily it swung its heavy club. Its skin was grey, mottled with brown, and it seemed to be wearing some crude form of pants.

Hermione was shaking in the background, and the troll seemed to ignore Harry completely. Instead, he made straight for Hermione. Harry conjured his strongest ball of magic, and hurled it right at the troll's head. He could tell right away that it wouldn't hurt the troll at all, but it might distract it long enough for Hermione to escape. The ball of magic smacked the troll right in the head, rather like a glowing snowball, and the troll turned its attention to Harry. It took it several seconds to turn its body, and Hermione managed to shake herself into action. She got behind the troll, and yelled. The troll was confused now, and made to turn, swinging its club wildly. Harry was hoping one of the teachers would make it in time to help them, but it looked like he couldn't allow this to go on any longer.

First, he needed to make sure that Hermione would help him. "Hermione!" He yelled. "Promise you won't tell anyone!" The troll reacted to the noise, and swung his club at Harry. He ducked, and it passed over his head.

"Won't tell anyone what?" She yelled back. The troll made to turn to her, swinging his club into the row of stalls, which exploded into splinters.

"Just promise!" Harry yelled. He'd only ever done this trick once, and wasn't proud of the ability. He didn't want anyone else to know about it.

"I promise!" Hermione yelled.

The troll seemed to finally make up his mind, and made to attack Hermione. Harry, however, had his magic ready to pull off his most dangerous trick. Balling his right hand into a fist, the thin, intricate scar on the knife-hand side arranged itself into a very intricate pattern of tiny symbols. (A/N: For those of you who don't know, the knife-hand side runs from the side of the pinky finger to the wrist) Concentrating on stopping the troll right where it was, he slammed his fist into his left palm. A white glow appeared above the troll, and slammed to the floor with the force of a locomotive accident. The troll crumpled under the force, laid out cold, and possibly dead. Harry didn't care to check.

Harry walked over to Hermione, who seemed to be in shock. As soon as she focused on him, she launched herself at him, sobbing. Harry, who had absolutely no experience with crying girls, held her awkwardly as she sobbed against him. While she cried, Harry contemplated the circumstances that had given him that particular weapon.

Harry was walking along the sidewalk in Little Whinging, when a man on a bike came barreling past him, knocking him into the street. Before he could get angry with the rider, he found himself looking into the grill of a fast-moving car. Acting without thinking, Harry slammed his fist into the pavement. He felt a massive surge of directed magic, and a painful stinging in his hand. The car stopped suddenly as the front end crumpled into the pavement, as if someone had hit it with a very large hammer. Before the driver could react, Harry got up off the street, and ran into the woods, where he stayed until he'd navigated his way to his Aunt's house.

The story had made the paper, and Harry called his trick the Hammer-Fist. He didn't ever use it, though. He was afraid of it, to be honest. The technique had the ability to be extremely destructive, and Harry didn't like destroying things. If anyone knew of this technique, they could try to make him use it for things that weren't necessarily good, and Harry didn't want that. He didn't think that there were many who would do that, but there would always be people who were manipulative enough to try. In muggle school, a few of his acquaintances had started out trying to be his friend, simply so he would do their homework. When they didn't need his help, they ignored him. Harry assumed that some people in the Wizarding World would be the same, so he wanted his special ability to remain hidden. Hermione knew now, but Harry was pretty sure that she wouldn't tell.

No sooner had Harry thought of this, then Hermione's big test showed up in the bathroom. Professors Snape, Flitwick, and most importantly McGonagall appeared in the broken doorway, and surveyed the damage with horror. Harry supposed that it did look quite horrific. There was dust everywhere, and the row of toilets was destroyed, along with most of the sinks. One of the walls was cracked, but most important was the unconscious troll in the middle of the room. Harry had examined it with his eyes, and discovered that it was still alive. Its aura was faint and slightly discolored, but it was alive.

"What…Why…How…" Professor McGonagall seemed unable to form a sentence. Professors Flitwick and Snape were shocked as well. After all, it wasn't an everyday occurrence for two first-year students to defeat a mountain troll. Finally, after a few moments of gaping, McGonagall gathered herself. "Explain yourselves, both of you!"

Harry flinched at her tone, but could see the worry in her aura. "Professor McGonagall, when the students were told to go to their dormitories, Hermione wasn't there. She's been in here since right after Charms class." McGonagall looked surprised. "A few of her housemates were insulting her behind her back, and she was upset. When everyone left the Great Hall, I got concerned that they didn't care enough about her to make sure that she was safe. Hermione is my friend, so I had to make sure that she was ok." When Harry called her a friend, Hermione smiled, and her eyes filled up with happy tears. She had a friend. "We were about to leave the bathroom when the troll showed up."

"I see, Potter." McGonagall said. "About the troll…how did you two manage it?"

Harry was uncomfortable. If he lied, he's be punished, but he didn't want anyone to know about his Hammer-Fist technique. Hermione seemed to sense his discomfort, and came to his rescue. It was amazing to Harry that she could pick up on him this quickly. "We have Professor Flitwick to thank for that! Harry kept yelling at it, and ducking out of the way of its club, until it raised it over its head. I remembered the levitation spell that we learned today, and cast it. The club was pulled right out of its hand, but it was way too heavy for me to lift. It fell, and landed right on the troll's head. It was a good thing we learned that spell today! It saved our lives!"

Harry was quite astonished by Hermione. Not only had she told a complete lie, she'd spun the tale so well that it sounded like a perfectly accurate truth. Professor Flitwick believed it, and even Snape looked like he might believe it. Professor McGonagall awarded Hermione twenty points for her bravery, and then took away fifteen points for her foolishness. She awarded Harry a Silver Star. Harry was quite pleased with that. Silver Stars were one of three awards a Magus could earn at Hogwarts. Silver Stars were awarded for selfless service to another person. He would proudly wear it on his shoulder. After getting the award, Harry decided something. Hermione needed a better environment than the one she was in, and Harry would make sure she got it.

"Professor, Hermione needs a backing."

Professor McGonagall was shocked again. She hadn't expected Harry to bestow that Honor on anyone in his first year. "Are you sure, Harry? That is serious business, and there will be a few consequences for her as well."

"Let's let her decide then." Hermione looked confused. "Hermione Granger, I, Magus Harry Potter, formally invite you to become an honorary member of Draconus house."

"Before you accept, Miss Granger, there are a few things that you should know. For one, your dress code will change a bit. You will wear the Gryffindor equivalent of Harry's robes. You will also be removed from the House Point competition. Your answers in class will no longer be worth house points. On the upside, you will no longer need to worry about losing points either." Professor McGonagall seemed to know everything she needed to know about the process Harry was initiating. "Harry becomes your sponsor as a Draconus student. That means that a few of his rules apply to you as well. If you are challenged to a duel by another student in your year or lower, you cannot refuse." Hermione looked like she was about to argue. "However, you will not be required to duel." Hermione was relieved, but only for a moment. "Harry will duel on your behalf."

"That's not fair, Professor!" Hermione cried. "Harry has to duel for me if someone challenges me?"

"No, it's not fair, Miss Granger. It is, however, the way these things work in this process." Professor McGonagall said. "Harry has initiated this process, and wishes you to join his house. Do you accept?"

Hermione thought for a moment, and then decided that she only had one friend, and he was a Draconus. She's become a Draconus to be closer to her friend. "I accept, Professor."

From the pocket of her robe, McGonagall produced a small piece of purple wire, and touched it to Hermione's Gryffindor badge. The wire snaked its way around her badge, making the badge completely outlined in the rich purple that was Draconus' distinctive color. "Very well, Miss Granger. You are now an honorary member of Draconus house. You are still required to sleep in the Gryffindor dormitory, although we will make an exception for tonight. Harry, we'll speak about this tomorrow. For now, you two head to the Draconus dormitory, where you should find some food waiting for you. The other students are finishing their meals in the dormitories as well. We'll take care of this troll, and then I'm going to speak to my house about their treatment of Hermione. Goodnight, you two."

The two students made their way, twisting and turning through the halls, to the Draconus dormitory, where Hermione's backing illuminated the Magus glyph for her. Harry showed her how to open it, and they settled in for the night.