I was running.

Running faster than I have ever run before. I had to be on time!

Ron was running beside me. Well, behind me. I was faster then him, yet it felt like I was barely moving at all.

We could not be late!

I could not be late!

We raced passed empty classrooms and finally we were there.

I could hear her scream just as the foul stench reached my nostrils. We were late.

I pushed the door open and with barely a thought flung myself inside. I regretted it a spit second later as I crashed into a large heavy body.

'I must be the troll.'

Funny how I could think something so calm when my heartrate doubled, my blood pressure spiked, and my body flooded with adrenalin.

I was terrified. The troll didn't even notice me.

As I backed off, I got a good look at it. Twelve-foot-tall with a club so large it was dragging it on the floor beside him.

She screamed again and time seemed to unfreeze. The troll roared and advanced on the poor schoolgirl. It flung its large club and destroyed the stalls – and much of the bathroom with them – making the girl scream again and dive to perceived safety. She was wrong.

As the troll was once again making its way over to her, I was desperately looking for something to distract it with. Seeing all the broken pieces of bathroom on the floor I picked some up and started throwing it at the troll.

Ron – having followed me into the bathroom – copied what I was doing and soon the troll was peppered with broken bathroom pieces.

But just as it didn't notice an eleven-year-old crashing into it, it also didn't notice some small pieces of debris. Or if it did notice, it most certainly didn't care.

And with one almost lazy swing, Hermione granger was flung into a wall. The sound of her spine breaking and her bones snapping easily heard in the small bathroom.

Ron threw up.

I just stared. Her arms and legs bend at unnatural angles and her eyes – still open – staring back at me. Those large dead brown eyes.

The beast slowly turned around to look at us, to kill us.

We where going to die in here.

I was going to die in here.

The trolls club, easily large enough to reach us, swung again. This time at Ron.

I dived at him, not noticing the door flinging open and half the teacher staff bursting into the room. It saved his life. Me hitting him and pushing him out of the way, I mean.

The club still graced him, sending him a good ten feet away and making him scream in agony.

'Pain is good, it means you're still alive to feel it.' I caught myself thinking.

What a weird thing to think.

Professor Flitwick was the first through the door, one of only two that saw Harry Potter push Ron Weasley out of the way in the nick of time. As he did a quick sweep of the room, he saw what was left of miss Granger.

His blood boiled at the sight.

With speed no teacher had seen – save very few – he had his wand in hand and a brilliant chain of spells was aimed at the troll, who was slowly turning his head at the newcomers.

Now, normally, a troll is nearly impervious to magical attacks and take teams of specialized hunters or aurors to take down. Flitwick is not a normal wizard.

As the first spells impact on the beast it was pushed back. As Flitwick's first spell chain ended the troll was pushed against the wall, heavily bleeding. As Flitwick's second spell chain ended, the troll was little more than a smear on the wall. With a final flick of his wrist, what was left of the troll was vanished with a powerful evanesce.

More teachers made their way into the bathroom and saw the carnage that was left in the tolls wake. madame Pomfrey pushed her way through to Ron and performed a quick diagnosis. "He needs to be brought to the infirmary, now!"

"Yes, yes, of course Poppy, bring this poor boy to the infirmary Pomona." The headmaster said, sorrow heavily bleeding into his tone.

With Ron being bound on a stretcher, Madame Pomfrey made her way to Hermione. One small sweep of her wand told her all she needed to know.

"Miss Granger is dead."

With the ensuing chaos that such a sentence usefully follows, Harry Potter was left forgotten.

As the teacher left to check on the other students, Harry Potter had leaned and slit down a small piece of undestroyed wall. Tears streaming down his face.

As Hermione's body was lifted on a stretcher and brought to the infirmary, Harry Potter had stopped crying.

As the headmaster left to inform Miss Grangers parents, Harry Potter was left alone in that destroyed bathroom.

Well, that's not true. There was one other person.

Severus Snape.