Harry Potter had gotten Angelina (one of the few girls he knew enough to ask a favor from) to go look for Hermione in the girls' dorm. He'd said that she owed him a bit of homework help, and should have been down ten minutes ago. All lies, but far better than having Angelina go in pitying the bushyheaded girl.

Angelina had resurfaced a good eight minutes later, saying that Hermione Granger wasn't there.

Harry Potter wanted to kick something. He also wanted to apologize to Hermione for the implication that he believed anything that Ron The Weasel said. Harry was just about to set out looking in the library, when Ron caught up to him, "It's time for Feast! Halloween Feast!" He babbled childishly, and Harry had the sudden realization that he'd have to go to the feast. Now. Not in an hour once he'd found out wherever Hermione was hiding (which, in his opinion, was a far more interesting task).

So down to the Halloween Feast they went, with bats and pumpkins and the usual ghosts acting spookier than usual (popping their heads out from the middle of the tables, and whatnot). And there was food galore. But this was Hogwarts, and there was always too much food to eat. Harry hadn't wondered before where it went (so long as he had an apple or something else to eat between meals), but he was starting to...

Lavender sat down and looked at Ron. "You know she's still in the bathroom right? Crying?"

"Which one?" Harry couldn't stifle the question, even if it did give away his interest. Instead it just popped out. He wanted to clap a hand over his traitorous mouth.

"Second floor... the one that floods frequently." Lavender said.

"How did she...?" Harry muttered, confused as to how she had managed to be there, though of course he wouldn't have checked that lav, as it was probably the worst one in the school to hide in. Who wanted soaked shoes on top of everything else?

Ron was looking a bit pale. "I meant what I said - she doesn't have any friends."

Neville looked up, and said, "I don't think she knew that..." Which was exactly what Harry had wanted to say, and he made a mental note to reward the shy boy, somehow.

Suddenly, their DADA professor, Quirrel, entered from a side door, waving his hands wildly, "Troll! Troll in the dungeons! Thought you ought to know!" At which point the utterly useless man collapsed in a dead faint.

The Headmaster stood, but Harry's eyes watched Severus Snape, their potions professor, as he glided out a side door near the High Table. Now where was he going...?

"Everyone is to return to their dormitories, while the teachers investigate this strange occurrence." The headmaster said grandly, and Harry just wanted to strangle him. It was an accident, it was a threat, it was clearly Something that was not a strange occurrence.

As most of the room erupted into chatter and standing students, Ron put a hand on Harry Potter's arm, and said urgently, "Hermione."

Shite, Harry Potter thought. We have to go rescue her, don't we?

It's the Gryffindor thing to do!

[a/n: reviews?]