Harry didn't tell anybody his suspicions about the dog and the parcel. He wasn't sure why, but through all of Blaise's interested speculations, he remained quiet. For right now, he wanted to try and figure out the mystery on his own. What on earth could be so important that they had to bring a monster like that into the school to guard it?
"Do you think it's galleons?" Blaise asked with interest while they were supposed to be working on a Transfiguration assignment. "I mean, it must be worth an awful lot, whatever it is."
"I don't know," Harry said noncommittally. He was trying to figure out what kind of valuable object would be as little as two inches long.
"Or maybe jewels," Blaise continued, not really much listening to Harry as he rattled off possibilities. "Or magical weapons or something."
"Well," Harry tried, "if it were just something like that, why wouldn't they have left it in Gringotts? I mean, Gringotts is supposed to be really secure, right?"
Blaise made a face. "Yeah, I guess," he said. After a moment's thought, his face brightened again. "Maybe it is a weapon," he said hopefully. "Something Dumbledore wanted to have close to him."
Harry couldn't see what kind of weapon the grubby little parcel might have been, so he tapped his parchment and asked, "So, what are switching spells again?"
Blaise sighed. "Yeah," he said glumly, accepting the change of subject and flipping open his transfiguration book, though he paused to say wistfully, "Wouldn't it be brilliant if we could get past it and see what it's hiding, though? We could probably make a fortune off it."
Harry grinned back at him. It would be pretty brilliant, he had to admit.
They certainly weren't going to figure out how to get past the dog that afternoon, however. Between their transfiguration work and a lengthy essay for potions, their time was being eaten up very effectively.
The common room was filled every night with students working on their assignments, and the first years had to tread carefully to avoid snappish comments from the students in fifth and seventh years, whose looming exams had them overloaded with work and stress.
Blaise and Harry sat there one evening, trying to master a tricky charm that moved objects across a surface. "Look," Blaise told Harry, "you're holding your wand too hard. You're not going to drop it. Hold it lighter and try." He focused on the bowl they were trying to move, tapping his wand down firmly and then sweeping it sideways. "Agilis inmanus!"
The bowl wobbled encouragingly, but didn't move. Blaise glowered at it.
"Here," Harry said. "Let me try." He shifted his grip on his wand as Blaise had advised and leveled his gaze on the bowl. Flitwick had explained to them that the spell itself was frequently useless without the will behind it, so he concentrated, willing it to move as he tapped his wand. "Agilis inmanus!"
The bowl shot sideways with considerably more force than Harry had expected, flying clear off the edge of the table and landing with a clatter near the feet of Terrence Higgs, a seventh year who was on the House Quidditch team.
Higgs had been working on an essay, but when the bowl hit the floor, his quill jerked, smearing ink over the page. He lifted furious eyes to spot Harry, who dropped his wand hastily onto the table, trying to look innocent. It was too late.
"Ardoris auris," Higgs hissed, whipping his wand out and in Harry's direction. A sharp pain seared suddenly in Harry's ears, and he clapped his hands to skin that suddenly felt drenched in flames. He bit his tongue hard on his cry and tasted blood. He had learned already that if he made any noise when the older students lashed out, he would pay for it later.
He called out to Higgs instead, desperately, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!"
After a few seconds, Higgs had burned off enough of his anger and ended the spell. "Go practice somewhere else," he spat at Harry.
Harry nodded hurried assent, grabbing at Blaise's arm as he climbed to his feet. "Let's go," he said, pulling Blaise towards their room.
"Man," Blaise said sympathetically as the door closed behind them. "What is that, the third time this week?"
"Yeah," Harry said, rubbing at his ear. The pain was totally gone, but the memory still smarted enough. "I need to find somewhere else to work on these things."
"You get it more quickly when you know bad things will happen if you bollocks it up," Blaise assured him. "You did really well there, anyway."
Harry gave a grin in response, dropping to sit on his four-poster bed. "I really did, yeah."
Life in Slytherin wasn't very different from life on Privet Drive in some ways. While Harry's yearmates were always jockeying for position among themselves, bullying of them by older students was expected, and they couldn't do much to resist it. It hadn't taken Harry long to adjust to that, but some of the other students had more problems.
Draco Malfoy had been hexed nearly daily for the first few weeks, until he learned to adjust. Harry was sure he only put up with them by imagining the revenge he would get at some point; Harry himself managed by reminding himself that the lessons he was learning would keep him from being helpless again once he was out of school.
When Harry saw the notice on the common room bulletin board announcing the Halloween feast later that week, he was shocked to realize how much time had gone by. With his classes and his efforts to adjust to the magical world, his schedule was full, and the days slid past without him noticing them.
Halloween was a bright, vibrant day, and as they climbed the steps to the Great Hall, the students could smell pumpkin pies and mulled cider drifting up from the kitchens. The entire castle was buzzing with excitement.
In transfiguration that day, they were working on transfiguring a beetle into a button. Blaise and Harry were repeating the incantation over and over again on their six-legged button in between excited speculations about what the feast would be like.
"What do you think they'll serve us for dinner?" Harry asked. "Vertere!" The button waved its legs feebly.
"Other than everything?" Blaise replied with a grin. "Vertere! I figure beef, ham, chicken, biscuits, potatoes, Vertere, squash, beans, pumpkin juice, cider, Vertere, tarts, pie…"
The button looked unimpressed by Blaise's efforts, trying now to climb off the side of the table. Harry scooped it up and dropped it again in the middle of the table, eyeing it skeptically.
"If you would focus on your work, you would have more success." Professor McGonagall snapped suddenly from behind them. Harry and Blaise spun guiltily to look up at her. She was leveling a disapproving look at the pair of them.
"Uh, sorry, professor," Harry said.
McGonagall looked unimpressed with the apology. "Again, Mr. Potter," she instructed, peering at him through her spectacles and gesturing towards the button.
Harry let out a sigh and turned back towards the scuttling button. Taking a deep breath, he focused his attention on it and pointed his wand. He took a few seconds to clear his mind, then tapped his wand and repeated, again, "Vertere!"
As much to his surprise as anyone else's, the scuttling legs receded and vanished, leaving a shiny black button behind. Blaise stared for a moment, then flashed a grin at Harry. "Nice work, mate!" he said enthusiastically.
"You see, Mr. Potter, what you can do when you concentrate," McGonagall said, although the sternness in her voice had lifted somewhat. "Well done. Ten points to Slytherin."
The unexpected praise gave Harry a flush of pride, and he grinned back at her, then over at Blaise. From across the room, Draco glowered at him.
That afternoon they had flying lessons, which was a good way to burn off energy. The Gryffindors were keyed up as well, which led to a lot of tension between the two houses. As Madam Hooch blew her whistle to start class, Harry realized that Hermione wasn't in the group. He waited for a lull in the class and cornered Neville on the lawn.
"Hey," he said. "Where's Hermione?"
Neville looked terrified of him, which was, Harry thought, a rather extreme reaction. "Look," he said impatiently. "I'm not going to jinx you or anything. I just want to know where Hermione is."
"I don't know," Neville said, still looking frightened.
Parvati Patil, one of the Gryffindor girls, overheard them. "She's in the girl's bathroom," she informed them. "Ron and Dean made her cry, and she wants to be left alone."
Harry blinked at her. "Oh," he said. "Thanks." She gave a little shrug and moved on. Harry turned to look for Ron Weasley, and saw him with Seamus Finnegan, laughing about something. Madam Hooch was trying to correct Millicent Bulstrode's grip.
Harry strode over to the Gryffindor boys. "What did you do to Hermione, Weasley?" he demanded.
Ron looked up and flushed to the roots of his hair. "None of your business," he said hotly.
"Did you hex her?" Harry pressed. His hand wrapped around his wand, and he felt a hand on his elbow: it was Blaise.
"Easy, Harry," Blaise said. A flick of his eyes indicated Madam Hooch, who was striding over towards them.
"What's going on here?" she asked in a booming voice.
"Nothing," Harry muttered, whirling away from Ron and back to his broom.
Hermione still hadn't returned by the time the feast began that evening. There was an empty space at the end of the Gryffindor table, and when Harry scanned its length, he couldn't see her anywhere. It put a bit of a damper on the festivities, although it was hard to be too glum when surrounded by the festive atmosphere that was the decorated Great Hall.
Evilly grinning jack-o'-lanterns bobbed in the air, and thousands of live bats swirled in colonies overhead. The tables gleamed with gold plates and goblets, which filled at a word from Dumbledore, just as they had for the start-of-term banquet.
Harry and Theodore were bickering good-naturedly over a chicken drumstick when Professor Quirrell burst through the doors of the Great Hall, staggering up to Professor Dumbledore. He slumped against the table and gasped, in a clearly audible voice: "Troll -- in the dungeons -- thought you ought to know."
He slumped to the floor, unconscious.
There were a few seconds of overwhelming silence, and then the hall erupted. Students pushed upright from their chairs, jostling the tables and each other in their attempts to get to safety. In the end, Dumbledore lifted his wand and shot purple firecrackers into the air.
They burst in explosions of color, and the hall fell silent. Dumbledore spoke into the stillness. "Prefects, lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"
Maria Marcos, their prefect, looked for a moment like she might abandon them all to fend for themselves, but overcame the impulse. "Okay, everyone!" she called. "Move. Fast." Her eyes flicked around as if she was expecting the troll to come through the door any minute; it was clear she wasn't prepared to wait long for them to follow.
Everyone who wasn't already standing clambered hastily to their feet. Harry overheard Draco muttering to Crabbe as they lined up: "Troll. If we were at a real school, none of us would need to be afraid of trolls." His voice was scornful.
Harry turned to Theodore. "How do you think it got in?" he asked.
"How the blazes should I know?" Theodore asked. "I didn't let it in."
"Someone must have," Draco said, pushing up to stand between the pair of them without waiting for an invitation. The group of Slytherins moved slowly towards the door to the Great Hall. "Trolls are so stupid, there's no way it got in on its own."
"Who would do that?" Blaise asked, coming up to join the group.
"Well," Draco said, "I think Potter's off the list of suspects. He'd be too scared to get that close to a troll." He smirked lazily.
Harry felt a surge of anger and bit down on it with an effort. "I am not afraid," he said.
"Yeah?" Draco arched his eyebrows, and Harry's stomach sank at the triumphant expression on Draco's face. He had a feeling he'd walked into something unfortunate.
"Then I bet," Draco went on, "that you're just waiting for your chance to slip away and face it. I mean, that's what you do, isn't it, Potter? End menaces? Kill evil things?"
Harry could only stare at him for a minute. Theodore and Blaise were looking at Harry now, expectant, though Harry couldn't tell what they were expecting. Was he supposed to go along? Laugh in Draco's face?
"Yeah," he said at last. "I was. I guess I'm lucky that you're a gutsy enough guy to come along and witness, right?"
Draco went a bit pale. Blaise let out a short laugh. "Sorry," he said when Draco turned to glare at him, without a hint of repentance in his voice.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Harry said, sensing that he was going the right way now. "Did you want to go back to the dorm?"
They were nearly to the door now, some of the last ones to leave the Great Hall.
"I'm not afraid," Draco snarled. "I'll go with you."
Harry's heart sank. He had been hoping Draco would back down and give him an out; he had been certain Draco didn't have the nerve. Now they were both stuck.
Blaise and Theodore were looking kind of stunned by the entire exchange, and Theodore finally let out a low whistle. They were out into the corridors now, heading towards the staircase down. Harry drew a deep breath, then jerked his head towards one of the corridors. He and Draco peeled off into it, leaving the others behind.
They waited in silence for the footsteps to fade. Draco finally spoke into the quiet. "Which way, then, hero?"
Harry had no idea. "Down, I guess. Come on." They headed for one of the staircases to the dungeons, but the sound of hurried footsteps stopped them. Harry grabbed Draco's arm and jerked him into a doorway. From inside the darkened room, they watched as Professor Snape strode down the hallway, his black robes flapping around his ankles.
Harry looked at Draco, who just shrugged. "No idea," he whispered.
"Come on," Harry whispered. The two of them crept out into the hallway and after Snape. He went up one staircase, then down a corridor. When he reached the next staircase, Harry stopped dead.
"He's heading for the third floor," he said.
"So?" Draco asked with irritation in his voice.
Harry glanced at him, then shook his head. He certainly wasn't going to tell Draco about what he had seen the night Draco set him up. Draco's eyes narrowed. Before he could say anything, however, Harry placed an odd sensation that was starting to bother him.
"Do you smell that?" he asked.
Draco opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again, puzzled. He sniffed. The foul odors of public bathroom and gym locker mingled in the air. "What is –"
And then they heard it.
There was a low whuffling noise, and the muffled thud of footsteps. A grunt drifted out of the shadows. Draco made a small noise and shrank backwards, whispering "Oh, no. Oh, no…"
Harry, too, pulled backwards; his breathing was coming shallow now. They watched, horrified, as a massive figure moved into the light pouring through a window.
They had found the troll.
It was a hideous sight: over twelve feet tall, with rock-grey skin, a body that looked like a collection of lumps stuck together with library paste, and a small, misshapen head perched atop the entire mess. Its flat, horny feet shuffled along the ground as he sloped nearer to them, dragging an enormous club along the ground behind him.
It stopped beside a doorway, peering into the room. Harry held his breath. After a moment, the troll stepped through the open door, disappearing from view.
"The key is in the lock," Harry muttered to Draco. "We could lock him in there."
"Do it!" Draco hissed, not moving.
Harry darted forward toward the door, slammed it closed with a bang, and turned the key. He felt a rush of triumph, and grinned back at Draco. Draco returned the grin as the troll bellowed inside the bathroom, slow to react to its imprisonment.
The sudden, high-pitched scream from inside the room knocked both grins away. Harry swiveled his head back to stare at the door, realizing suddenly that it was the girls' bathroom. "Hermione," he said, realizing what they had just done.
"Leave her!" Draco yelled. "Who cares? It's a troll!"
Harry ignored him. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he reopened the door, plunging inside.
Hermione was pressed up against the opposite wall, pale and terrified. The troll was advancing on her, swinging its club to smash the sinks as it passed.
Harry had no idea what he was doing, or even if Draco was there to help him out. All he knew was that he had to do something. He picked up a tap and flung it hard at the troll's head, bellowing "Run!" at Hermione.
The tap bounced off the head and ricocheted into the wall, clattering loudly. The troll stopped approaching Hermione, standing stupidly for a moment, then slowly turned to see Harry. After a moment, it seemed to decide it liked Harry better as a target, and stepped slowly towards him, lifting its club.
Harry backpedaled desperately, trying to keep distance between him and the troll. A glance at Hermione showed her frozen in place against the wall, terrified. Harry yelled at her, "Run, Hermione! Come on, move!" But she was locked in place, too terrified to move. Harry cast about frantically for anything he could use, but nothing seemed like a particularly effective weapon against a 12-foot mountain troll.
His yells and the echoes off the walls seemed to be bothering the troll; it shook its head desperately, then let out an enraged bellow, charging at Harry. He ducked desperately sideways, barely evading the club as it swiped down at him. "HERMIONE!"
Another voice suddenly sliced through the room: "Caedus!"
The troll let out a new cry, shrill and pained. Harry dropped his wand, clapping his hands over his ears. The cry cut off sharply, and the troll slowly toppled over sideways to land with a thud on the floor, a wide, bloody wound along his side.
Draco was standing in the doorway, his wand still up, his eyes wide.
Hermione was the first one to speak. "Is it – dead?"
"I think so," Harry answered slowly. The troll wasn't moving, and a pool of blood was slowly forming around it.
"Good," Draco said, his voice short.
The three of them stared at the troll for another minute. Harry was starting to wonder what they should do now when the sound of slamming doors and hurried footsteps came from the hallway. Of course, Harry realized, someone must have heard the racket they were making; the troll certainly wasn't being quiet.
Professor McGonagall burst into the room, with Snape on her heels and Professor Quirrell a few steps behind him. Quirrell, upon seeing the troll, let out a little whimper and had to sit on a toilet to keep from falling over.
Snape bent over the troll. McGonagall was staring at Harry and Draco, her lips white with anger. Hopes of glory slid out of Harry's mind.
"What on earth were you thinking of?" said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. Harry looked at Draco, who hastily stuffed his wand into his pocket. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"
Snape looked up from his crouch on the floor, peering at Harry and Draco with keen interest. Harry had the uncanny sense that he knew more than he was letting on. Snape spoke in his silky tones: "Minerva, I am –"
"Please, Professor," Hermione cut him off, looking pale and scared, "they were looking for me."
Harry jerked his head around to stare at her, astonished. Draco looked as though she had suddenly sprouted a few extra heads; his mouth was slightly open.
"Miss Granger?" Professor McGonagall sounded as disbelieving as they looked; Snape was eying Harry with extreme skepticism.
"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." Hermione had made it to her feet by now, and was speaking in a desperate rush. "If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived."
"Which one of you boys did this?" Snape asked, his eyes moving between the pair of them.
"I did," Draco put in immediately, as if afraid that Harry would try to steal his credit. Something about the look in Snape's eyes, however, made Harry think he might not want the credit for this.
McGonagall was still staring, astonished at Hermione. Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?" Hermione hung her head. Harry was astonished that she would go to so much effort to take the blame for something that was clearly not her fault: they were, after all, the ones that had locked her in with the troll in the first place.
"Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," said Professor McGonagall. "I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses."
Hermione left.
Professor McGonagall turned back to Harry and Draco. "As for the two of you," she began.
"They are my responsibility, Minerva," Snape put in smoothly.
"Ah – of course, Severus." McGonagall gave Harry and Draco another look. "I will go alert the others that the troll has been… found." She paused again, then left the bathroom. Quirrell followed closely behind her, leaving Harry and Draco alone with Snape.
"You are extremely fortunate," he said silkily, "that Miss Granger was kind enough to lie for you. That kind of stupidity could get you both cast out."
Harry flushed, looking at the ground. Draco, beside him, stared mutinously at Snape.
"We saved her life!" he said.
"And for that… ten points to Slytherin for each of you," Snape acknowledged. "But Mr. Malfoy… I would be very cautious about the types of spells you choose to demonstrate around the castle."
His eyes glittered darkly. Draco nodded reluctantly. "Yes, sir," he said.
Snape paused, then said, "Both of you, back to the common room. You may yet find some food left, and I am sure your housemates are eager to hear the tale of your thrilling escapades."
Harry felt a rush of relief as he and Draco escaped without punishment, hurrying away down the corridor.
"What was that spell?" he asked Draco, grateful now that the other boy hadn't actually shown up for their midnight duel.
"Something my father taught me," Draco said. "He said his son should never be without the means to defend himself."
"Can you show me?" Harry asked.
Draco stopped walking, and so Harry stopped as well, turning to look back at him. Draco was eyeing Harry suspiciously.
"What?" Harry said.
"Maybe," Draco said grudgingly.
They continued on down the long staircase towards the Slytherin common room.
"That was pretty decent of Granger," Draco said as they headed down the last corridor.
"Yeah," Harry agreed. "It really was."
Draco made a brief face as if he smelled something unpleasant, then spoke the password to open up the common room. They stepped through together.