Chapter ten: Troll Trapped

Break In At Gringott's

I frowned at the headliner, remembering the tall building with the frightening creatures standing guard. It was broken into? The goblin we'd been escorted by had implied it was impossible. Then I looked at the date.

"Hey, Harry," I called. I showed him the paper, an old one from a few weeks before that I'd only just now glanced at. "That was the day we were in Gringott's."

The article said that the vault had been emptied earlier that day, which was reassuring I supposed. Strangely, I remembered how odd Hagrid had been acting that first day. He'd been there to retrieve something for Professor Dumbledore. I'd never spoken to the headmaster, but occasionally we saw him in the hallways between classes- always accompanied either by Professor McGonagall or Miss Elora.

"Yeah," he answered slowly, shrugging as if it made no difference. "Are you coming flying with me?"

Meredith had kept her promise and bought Harry a broom on which to practice, in exchange for him not being on the team. While Oliver Wood, a hyper boy with an unhealthy obsession with Quidditch, was upset at hearing Harry's news he still agreed to show him how to fly and play the game. He and the twins took Harry's Quidditch education very seriously, and told him he could play at QN, with Madam Hooch, Hagrid, or occasionally Miss Elora supervising. What was more, Harry's very popular broom was delivered at breakfast and I hadn't seen him look so happy as we unwrapped it.

"No, I'm meeting Hermione in the library. We're doing the Potions essay. It's due Friday, you know." I eyed him, knowing he hadn't done it yet. He had the sense to look guilty.

"I'll get it done," he promised. "See you at dinner."

"Don't be late, it's the Halloween feast."

"I know! That's why this is my last chance to get some practice in before tonight."

I put my books together after he was gone, heading towards the library. I loved walking through the castle. Especially after classes were over for the day and most people were either in their common rooms, like tonight when most of them were preparing for QN, or hiding in their favorite spots to get a bit of peace. The library was peaceful, with groups of students scattered around at the tables studying. Mostly Ravenclaws. Hermione preferred it though, with all the commotion in the common room. Mostly, she found it hard to concentrate there in the Gryffindor Tower where George always was with a smile and a new compliment about her hair or the way her nose twitched when she was reading. But she never mentioned that as part of her reasoning, and I wasn't going to be the one to bring it up.

"Where's Harry?" She asked when I sat down, not looking up from Neville's study guide.

I huffed and started turning the pages to where they were. "He's going out to the Pitch. Says Oliver thinks he needs to concentrate on his turns before tonight. Wants to show him off to Cedric Diggory."

Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes to remind us exactly what she thought of flying and Quidditch. "Honestly, he hasn't even started his essay. He probably hasn't even read five uses for Dragon's Blood, much less the twelve we need."

"Who knew there were so many common household uses for it?" Neville sighed dryly to himself, making Hermione glance back at him with exasperation.

I pulled out my parchment, remembering the newspaper. "Hey, did you two see where Gringotts was robbed a few weeks ago? Daily Prophet reckons it was Dark magic."

"We saw. Table Five wouldn't quiet down about it, speculating about people using Muggle means to get in."

Hermione nodded and added quietly, "Madame Pince made them leave, seemed very agitated over it."

Neville sighed, obviously tired of studies. "Oh, she's probably just upset that she hadn't figured it out either. Everyone's been talking about it. It was the day we met in Diagon Alley, wasn't it?"

"It was, and Miss Elora took us to the bank just before it seems to have happened. We met Hagrid there- say! You don't suppose he'd know anything, do you? I mean, Hagrid knows all the gossip. Even if it was just a rumor..."

"There are more important things right now than who broke into Gringotts and how," Hermione told us in her bossy tone. "Like this essay. Professor Snape will be looking for any reason to dock Gryffindor a few points, especially with the first game coming up soon. We'll be lucky if no one gets caught heading out tonight."

Neville and I deferred to her wishes, studying our books and listening to her prattle on about dragon blood until the time came for supper. All the first years were excited for our first Halloween feast, running back to their dorms to don their pointed hats and fresh elf pressed robes. Hermione had made a habit of carrying hers wherever she went with a small spray bottle of starch for her robes, I had grabbed my hat and changed into new robes before meeting them in the library, but Neville had forgotten both completely and had even forgotten his tie- so the three of us went up to the Tower before we would go to meet Harry at dinner. I knew immediately there was trouble about as the Fat Lady opened.

Ron Weasley was a bitter minded redhead boy in our year, Fred and George's little brother, that the three of us hadn't much interacted with so far. He was close with Seamus and Dean. Harry and Neville had said he seemed decent enough, Fred and George didn't talk about him much, and he wasn't terribly advanced in our classes.

When the portrait opened and we entered the common room Ron was standing on the table with a circle of other people around him with two cut pieces of parchment under his lip, talking in a bossy, high pitched voice. "That's not it! You're saying wrong. Don't you see, I'm the expert, you should listen to me. It's Wingardium LeviOsa, not LevioSAR."

His mind was too content at the attention he was getting, too occupied with his moment of fame than to notice that everyone was now looking past him at Hermione, whose mind was rearing and trying to stay calm at the same time. She seemed to be experienced in bullies. But she straightened her back and waited for Ron to turn around, following everyone's glances.

Without even a sniff, she jutted her chin out and said, "You're still saying it wrong," with glassy eyes and a red nose. Then she quickly turned on her heel to walk out of the room again. She kept thinking that she had to get out there before she couldn't hold her tears back anymore. She had to find somewhere away from everyone. Neville stopped me from walking up to Ron, who had the decency to feel somewhat guilty we caught him, so that we could go after her.

We went back out of the portrait, back to the main corridor, where Hermione had now broken out into a run to get to a bathroom somewhere. She ran past crowds of people making their way to the Great Hall, pushing her way past shouts of surprise and cries of outrage. Neville and I chased her through the path she'd made of people, but he stopped at the entrance of the girl's lavatory that she'd run into.

"Hermione?" I called when I went in. She was in a stall already, crying, having dropped her things outside of it. It sounded muffled, like she was trying to stifle it with her hand.

"Go away," she said back, almost shouting at me. Her mind, always dizzyingly too full to listen to, was now too muddled. She kept replaying Ron's mock to herself.

"We can't," Neville called to her from the entrance. "You're our friend. Come on, your teeth aren't that bad- and Ron's just a git. Even Fred and George think so."

She didn't say anything back, just cried more. I talked through the stall, leaning against it and trying to be soothing like Meredith would be if she were here. "Please, Hermione, come out. No one thought he was funny anyway. They were more appalled than anything."

"It doesn't matter," she said. "I know what everyone thinks. I'm bossy and stuck up and-and-and just an ugly little know it all! I've heard it all before."

"I don't think that," I told her gently. "Neville and Harry don't think that. Fred and George don't think that. And Hagrid and Miss Elora."

"Hagrid and Miss Elora couldn't think ill of anyone if they tried," she pointed out.

Neville's voice called from the entrance again, "What about us? We don't think that. You're smart, Mia, and really nice. And- you're the most talented witch in our class!"

She sniffed, but had stopped outright sobbing. "You're all my friends though, you're supposed to think that."

"We are your friends," I said eagerly. "So that means our opinions should matter more than theirs. And that just makes us lucky that you're our friend and not theirs. Let them think what they want. One day you'll be- you'll be-"

"Minister for Magic?" Neville suggested, his voice echoing.

I nodded, even though no one could see me. "Yes! One day you'll be Minister for Magic and everyone will be awful sorry they ever said anything mean about you."

"Not that they wouldn't be sorry anyway," Neville said conversationally. "Imagine what George and Fred will do if they hear about Ron. They'd dye his hair green or something."

Hermione scoffed, but it turned into a small laugh and she agreed, "They'd put spiders in his bed."

"Or put a hiccoughing potion in his food," I joined.

Hermione's small laugh turned into a full-on giggle and the two of us joined her until it faded and she groaned with a sniff. "Oh, how could I be so stupid? I shouldn't have run off. Now they'll think, well they'll think I'm weak. They'll all think I'm just a-a-"

I knocked lightly on the stall door to get her attention. "Hey. I thought we just agreed that it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks?"

She sighed, thinking of her father's image. "I know, but how am I supposed to face them now?"

"We don't bring it up," I told her. "No one has to know about this except us, and you ran so fast in the hall that I bet the people in the hall didn't even get to see who it was that pushed them aside."

She groaned again. "I did do that, didn't I?"

"Besides," Neville called, "you told- oh blast it! I'm coming in."

Neville hesitantly came into the bathroom and joined me at the stall door, glancing around. "Why is this so much cleaner than the boys? Anyway, Mione, you told him off good before we left. His face was so red after you were gone! How about this. I'll go get us some rolls or something from the feast, find Harry, and we'll just eat at QN tonight. Everyone else will think we all went back to the library to study some more."

Hermione sniffled one last time, asking in a small voice, "Would you really?"

I sighed in relief and he nodded. "I will. You guys stay here. I'll be right back with Harry and some food."

He left to do so and I knocked on the stall again. "What do you say, Hermione? Please come out? Or, I suppose we could eat in the stall with you. Or pass food under it. But, come out?"

There was silence, then the click of the lock and she opened it. Her face was red, her eyes still glassy, but there was a small smile on her face anyway. Her mind wasn't muddled with old insults anymore, instead torn between QN, studying, and her stomach rumbling.

"How are you feeling now?" I asked unnecessarily.

She hugged me, "Thank you, Lilia. You and Neville and Harry are the best friends I could ask for. I'm so very glad we met."

BOOM!

Both of us jumped in surprise at the loud crashing like thunder that occurred in the hallway just outside of the bathrooms. We could hear growling in the corridor, like a large animal or thing was lost and wondering to itself what to do. Hermione's eyes grew large.

"What was that?" she whispered. "It can't be Neville and Harry back yet, can it?"

"If they ran, maybe. Who or whatever it is, it's not close enough to hear. Let's go look-"

There was another smashing sound, followed by a rain of broken glass and Hermione shrieked in surprise. She grabbed my arm and pulled me into the stall with her, locking it. We could hear loud steps from something big coming towards the bathroom where we were, and the two of us crouched to sneak a glance under the partition.

The feet were large. Large, grayish, and disgusting, with green-tinged toe jam and jagged glass from a stain glass window lodged in. But the glass didn't seem to bother him at all. All I could see were the feet and calves, until a large wooden club came down on one of the sinks- startling both of us. I must have made some sort of sound of it, because Hermione covered my mouth with her hand to keep me from doing it again. She pulled me back up and we flattened ourselves against the wall on either side of the toilet just in time to avoid the club coming down again and sweeping aside the entire stall.

Wood splinters and boards flew, water spraying in a fountain from the busted sink pipes. Hermione's hand tightened on mine and she pulled me with her, ducking under another swing of the club that obliterated the wall where we were just standing. Now it was broken pieces of stone flying up as the large thing turned around and tried to keep up with our movement. We were almost to the door when the club landed in front of us.

"What is it?" I asked, having to half shout to be heard over everything.

"I think it's a mountain troll! Most dangerous of their breed, destructive tendencies," she huffed as she pulled me under a sink. "Sometimes their whiskers are used as wand cores."

"I could have gone my whole life without knowing that. Duck!"

I pulled Hermione aside as another sink was destroyed and part of another wall. We had to get out of there, and there was a gap while the troll kicked some of the wreckage around. We ran towards it and almost got through that time. Hermione got through, and I was right behind her until a large, beefy hand plucked me up into the air. I screamed and Hermione whirled around.

"Lia!"

"Go get Professor Snape!"

"LILIA? HERMIONE!"

While still being in the air, I felt better hearing Neville's and Harry's voices. I could hear their feet running and then they were there next to Hermione, who threw a busted pipe piece larger than her head at the troll.

"LET HER GO!" Harry shouted at it, and he and Neville joined Hermione in throwing things to get his attention while I tried to wriggle out of his grasp.

Something finally seemed to do it, and the troll dropped me to turn towards them. It hurt, falling eight or ten feet onto the wreckage, and Harry dodged past to pull me up while the others kept throwing things. Once we were back at the entrance with them, the four of us turned to leave as Professors McGonagall, Snape, Sealocke, Dumbledore, Quirrell, Flitwick, and Miss Elora entered the bathroom. Miss Elora gasped, her hand over her mouth as she pulled the four of us behind her to shield us. Professor Snape charged forward with his wand, as did the Headmaster, Professor Flitwick, Professor Sealocke, and Professor McGonagall.

"Stupify!" They all said at once. Once hit, square in the chest, the large troll teetered for a moment and fell onto the wreckage itself.

Professor Quirrell whimpered at the sight and looked as though he might collapse as well, leaning against the wall for support. Professor Sealocke went to examine the troll with Professor Flitwick, but the others immediately started checking us over for injuries.

"Oh, you're bleeding," Miss Elora told me with a quivering voice and shiny eyes. "What happened? Why weren't you at the feast already?"

She sounded desperate, her voice shaking and frantic- her mind deliciously open and flooded with worry- until Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat and she stopped. Her mind slammed closed and she backed towards Professor Snape.

She was right. I was bleeding. Hermione and I both had wood shards in our skin and cuts here and there. I could feel the large bruise forming on my side from being dropped. Everyone was looking at the four of us now for an answer to her questions. And my friends were looking at me to answer.

"Well," I started slowly. "Hermione wasn't feeling well, and definitely not feeling much like going to dinner, so I stayed here with her while Neville went to get Harry and maybe some food. Then the troll just showed up."

Harry picked up where I left off. "Neville found me just as Professor Quirrell came to the Great Hall about the troll. We told the Weasley twins to get help, but we didn't want to wait to go make sure they were okay."

"If it weren't for Harry and Neville," Hermione said dramatically, "Lilia and I would probably be dead."

Miss Elora squeaked behind her hand, poised at her mouth as it always was if she was amused or anxious. "F-five points to both of you, then. In such a-a chaotic moment, you kept a clear head. You should have waited, mind you, but in light of the circumstance..."

Her voice drifted to a quiet stop. Professor Sealocke joined the group. "It's still alive, but it won't wake up for quite some time. You lot were very lucky. Headmaster, if I might speak with you."

Professor Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, of course. Elora, dear, if you might escort them to Madame Pomfrey to be looked over. Some dreamless sleep might be called for as well."

She laid a hand on my shoulder and herded us away. "Yes, Father."

"The Headmaster is your dad?" Hermione asked as soon as we were away from the bathroom, curious as there was nothing she'd found that suggested he had any family.

Miss Elora nodded. "He is. Someone left me at the Hogwarts wards when I was a baby and he adopted me. I grew up in the castle. I don't suppose that could be our little secret? It isn't well known for good reason."

"We won't tell anyone," I said immediately and excitedly. "Did you- did you ever find your real parents?"

She looked pained for a moment and I felt very guilty for asking. But she answered, "No. I never did. I never went looking for them either. I was always too afraid to find out the circumstances that lead to me being here, and I loved my life too much. I suppose, one day I may decide I'm ready to know, but I fear that may not be for some time now. Father is all I could ask for, and the teachers here have been my family since."

I didn't understand why anyone wouldn't want to know. I wanted to know. As happy as I was with my Meredith and our cottage, I had always wanted to know. Either my real parents would be all I hoped they would be, or they wouldn't in which I still had Meredith.

"I can't wait to meet mine," I told them.

Miss Elora smiled with a strange expression. "I hope then, when you do meet them, that you aren't disappointed."

QN was canceled that night, much to the despair of Harry, the twins, and Oliver Wood- who argued with Percy Weasley for a full twenty minutes after the announcement was made in the Gryffindor common room.

"Come on, Perce," he begged. "It's Quidditch. You can't just cancel Quidditch."

Percy's ears had turned red at the nickname and he pursed his lips in a perfect impersonation of Professor McGonagall. He sniffed and looked away with his nose raised a bit. "The other Prefects and I were talking and we thought, and the Head Boy and Girl agreed, that because of the troll mess it would be best to skip tonight. The teachers will be out in the corridors, and we don't want anyone getting caught."

That was the end of that and QN was just going to have to wait until after Christmas, which was coming fast and I couldn't wait. The four of us spent time not studying, pouring over catalogs and trying to decide on Christmas presents. Harry and I were hard pressed to find something for Meredith, and I was trying to decide if I should get something for Miss Elora or Professor Snape.

I went back to Professor Snape's classroom after classes on the first Tuesday following the Troll Debacle, knocking on the open door for our lesson. He was at his desk, like the first time, with his flouncy quill and bad sitting posture.

"What are you doing here, Miss Sterling?" He asked without looking up at me.

"I'm here for our lessons," I reminded him, more than a little hurt that he forgot.

He glanced up at me, not putting his quill down. "There's nothing else we can do at this point in your magical education. You are as capable as you can be for this stage in your maturation. We'll continue after the summer holidays."

Then he went back to writing, and I deflated. "Well, couldn't I stay for the hour anyway?"

"I have essays to grade," he told me. "I'm afraid I don't have time to entertain."

"Well, I'm having some trouble on our homework," I tried again.

He sighed and put his quill down, standing and grimacing in pain as he did. He sat back down, seeming very exasperated. "Lilia, please. You are at the top of the class, and you know it. If you're having trouble go to Miss Granger or the library, I'm sure they'll be equally helpful. I'm busy."

"Yes, sir," I said quietly, turning around and leaving again. I didn't want to go back to my friends, knowing they would just talk about what a git he was, so I wandered the halls.

Professor Snape was brilliant, and a teacher and Head of House, so of course he was busy. He was always giving homework, so he had loads to grade for each year. He'd already taught me a lot, and had said he'd teach me more next year on top of his other duties, but I felt sad that my favorite parts of the week were finished for the year.

"Merow."

I glanced down at my shadow, Rosabelle falling into perfect step with me. She looked back up at me and meowed again. "Where have you been? Have you been terrorizing Mrs. Norris again? She's going to hurt you if you don't leave her alone, you know."

"I don't know," a voice said. "I've seen her. She's faster than Mrs. Norris. It's Mr. Filch I would worry about if he found out she was trying to fight with his cat."

I turned around to see Professor Sealocke, his hands in his pockets with a book tucked into the crook of his arm and reading glasses sat on the end of his slightly crooked nose. I could just barely make out the title of his book with its blue cover, Quidditch Through The Ages.

"Good afternoon," I said, pretending he hadn't startled me. He knew anyway.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Sterling," he greeted back with a nod. "You look quite like you've had a bad afternoon. Care to take a walk with me?"

I shrugged, thinking that I wasn't ready to go back to the Tower. He must have taken that as a yes, because he started walking and I rushed to catch up. We walked for about ten minutes, ending up somewhere on the third floor, before he asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

I shrugged again, but started talking anyway. "I guess you know about my lessons with Professor Snape?"

He nodded, "I do."

"Well, he says we can't do anything more until next year when my magic core is stronger. But, I love our lessons. I don't love Occlumency, mind you, but Professor Snape is-"

"Professor Snape is a brilliant man," he said once I trailed off. "I would imagine he's something of your hero?"

I shrugged. "I guess. Why do you hate each other?"

He laughed. "Catch that, did you?"

"Well, he looks a bit angry anytime you're there," I told him. "Is- do you fancy Miss Elora? Just, they seem close and he might not like you because of that."

He laughed again, or maybe he hadn't stopped. "No. I can assure you I do not fancy Miss Elora, though she is a lovely woman. And I don't hate Professor Snape either, he is just a difficult man to please. I'm afraid I did something to get on his bad side, and that isn't something he forgives easily."

"What did you do?"

He shook his head, obviously not going to say, and his mind was deceivingly focused on lesson plans. There would be a pop quiz this week. "You know what you need?"

The change in topic came suddenly, but I didn't mind. "What?"

He smiled mischievously. "You need a new reason. Have you tried to get help on an assignment? He takes his subject quite seriously. He's a teacher before everything."

"I'm at the top of the class," I told him with a sigh. "Well, with Hermione. I was thinking about maybe trying to get a detention."

"No, he's too smart for that," he told me. "It would make him angry, and he'd just give the detention to Filch or something. What about talking to Miss Elora? She may have some ideas, or she may be able to talk to him about it."

That was perfect. I perked up and grinned, telling him so. "That's brilliant, professor!"

He shrugged. "It's been known to happen."

But I was already running off. I hadn't realized, that while we were talking, we were heading toward Miss Elora's office. When I got there, the door was open just slightly- and I was about to knock- but her tone of voice made me think I wanted to listen. I peeked through at where she was holding a rag to Professor Snape's leg, bandages near and ready to be used.

"You must be careful," she was telling him. "Oh, don't move! You'll make it worse."

"How can I possibly make it worse?" He asked in a snarl. "It's just a flesh wound."

She moved the rags, covered in blood, and started bandaging it. "Flesh wounds can still turn septic, you know, Se-"

He hissed in pain like she was binding it too tight. "Blasted thing! How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?"

Then he froze, looking towards where I was at the door. Miss Elora looked up at him, and followed his gaze, but I was safely hidden. Until...

Well, don't just stand there, skulking about doorways.

I should have been using Occlumency.

Slowly, I pushed the door open; my head down, my arms behind my back to fiddle with my hair, and Rosabelle at my feet looking just as ashamed. I hadn't seen Miss Elora yet that day, as she hadn't been at either meals so far. That wasn't entirely unheard of, but I hadn't seen her look so tired before. She still smiled at me though, as if I wasn't just caught spying on them.

"Good afternoon, Miss Elora," I said quietly, looking at them both with my head still bowed. "Good afternoon, Professor Snape."

"Good afternoon, Lilia," Miss Elora replied in a soft tone. It was her office, but I could tell it was Professor Snape that would do the talking and punishing.

"Is there a reason you were spying, Ms. Sterling?" He asked, more curious and stern sounding than angry.

I didn't answer at first, trying to decide what to say. If I brought up Professor Sealocke and his advice, he might stop listening altogether. "I just came to talk to Miss Elora, professor. I didn't mean to spy."

This wasn't altogether a lie. I masked it by following quickly with, "Are you okay?"

He hid his leg with his robes, which were slung over the back of a chair. "I am fine, Ms. Sterling. It is only a flesh wound."

I glanced over to Miss Elora, who was looking at his now hidden leg with worry, and quoted quietly back to him, "Flesh wounds can still turn septic, you know."

Miss Elora laughed, a delightful sound, and Professor Snape's mouth twitched something like a smile. Then Miss Elora clasped her hands together in a pleased movement, before opening them again to hug me.

"I see now there's no arguing with either of you," he scoffed to himself.

Miss Elora sat down on the ottoman at his feet to go back to binding his leg. I sat in one of her chairs to observe, wondering if he'd gone near the three-headed dog.

A/N: AAAAHHHH! I've given up on making promises that restrict me and writing. I never make good on them. Maybe I'll start working on that... next year. So, my rabbit had babies and they are wonderful! We're keeping two of the surviving five, named Windsor and we're calling the other Eira for now.

About the story... what do you think? I don't think Ron would have said it within earshot of Hermione and her friends on purpose, he's too much of a coward. Yes, I know he risks his life for Harry a lot in canon, but that's big stuff. When it comes to the little things he's a coward. There won't be much Ron bashing, but he's a bit of a butt in the first year. I have decided on all pairings except for Fred. I will probably leave that canon with Angelina. What do you guys think of Professor Sealocke, in general? Miss Elora? My Snape? Let me know!

Acacia.