Also, im horrid at writing action scenes so like- *wandering hand motions* idk what i did but it's there... also loki is getting more screen time after this (i hope) oh yeh- he's also like a shape-shifter snake or whatever.

Chapter Ⅴ

Just A Near-Death Experience... And The Aftermath...

Hermione wasn't overly fond of Halloween.

It wasn't that it was boring to her, or that anything bad ever happened to her, it was just that it never seemed of much importance to her. Dressing up was always fun, that was true, but she grew up without many sweets, so she really never saw going trick-or-treating as a good use of time. What was the point if she wasn't going to be able to eat the candy?

So, she did a little bit of dressing, arranging her outfit into something of the stereotypical outfit for a witch from a Muggle storybook. Harry had looked delighted at seeing her, scrunching his nose in laughter, before coaxing her into letting him to a witch's mole on her cheek.

Of course, she hadn't been able to say no, his delicate features giving him a very convincing pleading look. Not that she said it. Harry detested anything that made him seem soft or weak. But his smile had melted her, when he took a little bit of make-up from an upper year and made a little dot on her right cheek just by her nose.

Ron looked confused at her outfit, still not understanding after both of them had explained it but accepted her want to dress up. He even helped charm her hat and clothes to look a touch different from the books she'd gotten from the library.

The other Slytherins had stared at her outfit, disgust written plainly on their faces. On a few of them though, there was a small inkling of curiosity and wonder flashing through. It was almost funny. But still, they steered clear of Hermione and her wand, lest they get hit by the multitude of spells she had committed to memory.

They made their way down to the Great Hall, multiple muggleborns dressed up in ensembles of their choice. Her favorite one was the one of a Hufflepuff dressed as Madonna in her grunge-type look, even bleaching her hair and tying all the cross necklaces around her neck. Harry nearly tripped over himself when he saw it, looking surprised at all the muggleborns that had dressed up. While she wasn't sure if any of the Professor approved of the fishnet top, it was still a nice ensemble.

The tables were stocked full of sweets and savories, but she helped herself to some jacket potatoes, roasted chicken and honeyed carrots, only taking a single candy at Ron's insistence. And the candy apple was delicious, but she didn't find it very appetizing. She giggled at the bats that flew around and all the candles the floated through the hall.

Harry ate a little, mostly just poking at his food with little enthusiasm. She didn't push, merely wrapping a biscuit and chicken in a cloth napkin for him later, so that he didn't go to bed hungry. He was leaving soon she knew that, to honor his parents somewhere in private. Ron had been understanding as well, giving him 2 candles, he'd gotten somewhere, and to engrave their names in each of them before lighting them.

In his preparation for tonight, Harry had a picture that he'd drawn when he was little, of what he'd thought his parents would look like, to place beside the candles. It was sweet actually, but she said nothing, only nudging him when it had been a little over 30 minutes. Harry gave her a grateful look before rising to his feet, accepting the napkin of food with an odd look.

Once he left, Hermione slid next to Ron, who was taking another helping of chicken. It was a wonder how he ate so much food and still had room for more. "When do you think we should get him?"

He looked startled at that but hummed thoughtfully. "In about an hour; I don't know how lenient the other Professor's would be, even if he was mourning his parents, with him being in Slytherin."

She nodded in agreement to both things. The Professors didn't seem to like Slytherins at all, the most unbiased one she had seen so far was Professor Flitwick, who didn't mind helping them with a great enthusiasm, patiently answering all their questions. Even Professor McGonagall, for all she said about House conflicts, as Harry had pointed out, favored her lions and the other houses to the snakes, in way like not always being agreeable to helping or taking more points from Slytherin for squabbles that Gryffindors had provoked.

It was truly annoying really, but she refused to let that affect her, consistently answering questions in class and doing her best on her homework while stay in the length that was assigned.

She hummed as she took a small sip of pumpkin juice, nudging him when he began chewing with his mouth open, cheeks puffed out like a hamster. He swallowed thickly and gave her an apologetic look, if only slightly annoyed. Hermione gave him a small smile, taking a sweet cake from a dish nearby. Ron brightened immediately, staring incredulously as she bit into the fluffy cake. It was absolutely delectable, not even her father's chef had mas made cakes this good. She took 2 more and wrapped them up, storing them to eat later when she was reading before bed.

The minutes passed quickly, all while Hermione desperately tried to distract herself from retrieving Harry from the dungeons. Ron had told her that to interrupt a magical from mourning their loved ones on the day of their death was both rude and a good way to make all purebloods and some half-bloods hate you for disregarding such an important tradition. It was near sacrilege to do that, and she didn't want to do that or make Harry think she didn't care much for his grief towards his parents.

It also explained the fact that he was basically left alone for Hallows Eve and Halloween. The Slytherins hadn't dared bother him, even Malfoy hadn't made an inappropriate expression in their direction, always stirring away from Harry's somber and blank face.

After about 45 minutes, Hermione stood, unable to wait any longer. Ron stood next to her, downing his goblet easily. He followed her out of the hall, keeping next to her, and staying quiet the entire way only speaking when he dragged her into another side corridor. "The long way, so that Harry has more time with his parents." Unable to refute that, she nodded silently.

After a while, Ron stopped her, tugging on her wrist forcefully. She opened her mouth, intent on getting an answer for that, but he covered her mouth with his hand. Before she could lick his hand, rustling and soft curses reached her ears. She froze.

"Move backwards very slowly." The words were hissed in her ear, and Hermione took very careful and deliberate steps behind her. Her wand slipped into her hand and she immediately began running her mind through the hexes and jinxes she knew, also deciding to transfigure their shoes or clothing into needles or glass if she gets the chance.

Ron was very still in front of her, taking silent steps with years of practice that probably came from his prankster brothers. She wondered mindlessly if they knew just how much they hurt Ron with their pranking.

Then Ron turned, and she heard a loud swear. "Run!" Hermione's feet were moving before her mind could even fully comprehend the order.

Grabbing hold of her wrist, Ron tugged her around, twisting and turning through the dungeons. They slipped behind a corridor hidden by a statue and Ron urged her to go faster but the stitches in her side protested heartily, reminding her of the fact that she never really did much exercise, even with all the stairwells in Hogwarts. Something she really needed to rectify if Hermione wished to not have a heart attack before she turned 13.

Ron came to a stop, a desperate look a fear on his face.

About 20 feet in front of them, was a wall. She looked around, desperate to find maybe a soft line for another hallway.

There were none.

She spun around, a curse halfway out of her mouth.

Hermione was beaten by a spell and bright red light.

"Stupefy."

(-)

Harry walked out of the old classroom he'd been in, feeling deliriously happy from being high on thick Olde magicks as though it was cocaine.

The magic that had filled the room was so warm and comforting, phantom touches heating his skin with a pleasant feeling; one he'd wished for when he was younger all the time. The magic sang with his, different in so many ways but at the very base of the loving magic, it was the same as it. It was the Potter Family Magics and it was all the love and warmth of his ancestors accepting him as one of theirs, it made tears slip from his eyes, his chest light and heart rabid with pure joy.

The candles, individually carved with the names 'James Charlus Potter' and 'Lilliann Mae Evans-Potter', glowed a brilliant gold and the names a respective red and purple. The candle had been illuminated all throughout in a way only magic could accomplish, lit the little drawing that had been placed in front of the two candles.

Once the names had begun glowing, his ears were filled with a great roar of amusement and rich lilting giggle, couples with messy hair and glasses, green eyes and exactly 29 freckles. There were soft whispers of acceptance and love, joy and fondness.

In the midst of all this love, Harry was sobbing into his hands, tears of sadness and glee mingling together as they slid down his face. He cherished all the feelings in the room, the touches, the whispers, the visions, storing it all in the very back of his mind behind his near-nonexistent Occlumency shields. But he'd be damned before anybody ever took his new cherished memories away from him. They would walk away insane even if they did get the memories, or with a completely ruined mind.

After Harry dried his face and stared at the wall for a good amount of time, he carefully stored away his unburnt candles and paper into his satchel.

Pulling out the napkin that Hermione had given him, he split his biscuit in half, taking a decent sized bite out of the smaller half. He chewed carefully, debating whether or not to save some food for later. Deciding that he would save some for later because he always got uncomfortably full after he ate everything that Ron would load onto his plate, he shoved the napkin into his satchel and took another turn.

He sighed when a wall came into his vision, groaning at the fact that he took a wrong turn. Only to come to a complete halt when he saw a flash of shock red hair in his side-vision.

Ron.

Panic took a hold of his lungs, and he scrambled forward, dropping himself next to the redhead. He wouldn't be able to get Professor Snape in time, with just how hidden this hall was... Harry shook Ron harder, willing his magic into his hands. Sparks crackled and popped on his fingers, fizzling when they landed on the cloak Ron was wearing.

A soft groan reached his ears and Harry forced all the magic he could into his hands, hot and crackling like a fire. Ron shot upwards, grabbing one of his hands momentarily before wincing at the pain of it.

"Blimey mate! Your hands are on fire!" Ron's eyes fluttered and Harry hovered, not sure what to do as his friend cradled his head in his heads. "Bloody hell, my head is about to split open... stupid.." He dissolved into incoherent mutterings before Ron's head shot upwards and he stood, swaying and shaking.

"Hermione! They have Hermione! The red light- it's a Stupefy, stunning spell that the aurors use- and they knocked me out, now i have a headache but anyway! we have to get her..." Harry stared at Ron, not sure at all where he was going with this.

"Start from the beginning, Ron. I need to understand completely."

Ron shook his head harshly, before swaying on the spot. "No! We have to find Hermoine, she's still in the dungeons probably and somewhere that nobody would check to look, she has to be! It's some older Slytherins and they don't like that she's in the "Pureblood" house." Ron latched onto his and began pulling him, and Harry quickly steadied him.

He was led through the dungeons, checking every classroom and behind every door they came across. Ron was pale and shaky the entire time but refused to stop looking for Hermione.

Using his legilimency, Harry flicked some threads of calm into Ron's mind so that he wouldn't erupt. That wouldn't help them find Hermione.

They'd stopped to rest, and Ron's freckles looked like thick smatters of paint against his white and sweat-glistening face. He choked down the half of a biscuit Harry gave him.

"I don't know where else she would be..."

Harry let Ron lean on him, listening to his soft mutters. He perked up when a low growl sound met his ears and lots of ruffling. Nudging Ron slightly, he leaned to the side to hear what was going on. There were curses and scuffling before it stopped. He cast a quick disillusionment charm, shoving his magic into his wand. He and Ron shimmered to looking nearly exactly like the stone and floor, becoming human chameleons.

Footsteps raced past them though there were no people to associate them with, making both of them go shock-still. The sounds faded and they relaxed, Harry casting a quick, 'Finite Incantatum.'

"That was close... Do you think Hermione's might be in that direction?" Ron looked at him, clearly weighing out his answer. He opened his mouth but the sound that reached Harry's ears didn't come from Ron.

It was a loud roar and a shriek of horror.

Hermione.

(-)

Hermione opened her eyes carefully, gasping at the sharp twinges of pain in her arm and shoulders. She wiggled her arms, choking when her wrists burned with a deep pain, a fire striking into the center of her bones. Panic bloomed in her chest, and she wiggled more insistently in hopes of getting free. Burns rocketed through her arms and hands, feeble cries warbling from her mouth; black clouded her vision and Hermione stilled, both to stop the pain and clear her vision.

Her vision cleared slightly, just enough to allow her to see stalls, sinks, and tiled floors. The bathrooms.

A thick stench wafted into the air, causing her to wrinkle her nose at the sheer strength and horridness of it. Her eyes watered and she sniffled, blinking rapidly to keep the tears from falling. Her teeth ground together as she shifted gently, as to not irritate the wounds on her. A loud deep rumbling caught her off guard and she grunted as the floors and walls started shaking softly from strong and heavy footsteps. The stench got stronger, and she gagged, her eyes watering profusely.

Hermione tugged her arms, shifting to allow some space for her head to tilt back. Her eyes felt like they were going to pop out of their sockets as she rolled them back to see what was holding her up; Glowing red cords were threaded around her wrists and half-way down her forearms. They looked to be stuck to the wall by some odd magical object that she couldn't really see; there was something else written on the walls in red, but she couldn't see what was written from the angle she was currently in.

Looking down, her heart leapt at seeing nothing to hold her up or balance her. Which meant that the pain that was still throbbing through her was going to continue to throb because she was pulling down on the cords. Which didn't exactly appeal to her seeing as that now that Hermione was focused on it, the pain seemed a lot stronger and for more painful than before.

She clenched her teeth together and took a deep breath to herself despite the horrifying stench that was wafting through the air.

The rumbles from before sounded significantly closer and Hermione frowned at the large looming shadow at the corner. Nobody in Hogwarts was the large or made that sound. The closest was Hagrid and he made no sound even close to that when Hermione was there; his voice was also the wrong pitch and sound so there was no possible way it was Hagrid.

When the being that produced such a shadow turned, Hermione felt her eyes widen at oddly sized warts, green-ish skin, and a stupid looking on misshapen face.

It was a Troll.

Hermione screamed.

(-)

Harry darted toward the screaming, the jackhammer in his chest chipping away at his ribs to get free. Ron was behind him, stumbling slightly but refused to let Harry help him.

They turned into the bathroom and Harry stumbled at the sight of a 3 or 4 metre Troll. 'Whelp- At least I'll die like a fucking hero- Boy-Who-Lived Saves Muggleborn From Troll In Hogwarts! At least they'll get a good profit...' He ran forward, pulling out his wand.

"Immobulus!" Good news, it got the Troll's attention off of Hermione. Bad news, the spell didn't work, and the Troll had spotted Harry. Chuckling nervously, he dove to the side, scrambling underneath the stalls.

Sir Wart-face roared, and something crashed into the stalls, turning the wood into splinters and kindling. He crawled faster, desperate to get away from the smithereening stalls. (Was smithereening even a word?) ... Harry looked at Hermione who was making sounds of pain as she squirmed from where she was. Tears were dripping down her face and he could easily see the pain, horror, and terror in her eyes. It was practically a beacon at this point.

"Fireballs!" Harry twisted around to see Ron pointing his wand at the Troll, looking pale and sweaty but grimly determined. While he wasn't sure what Ron was trying to accomplish by well out 'fireballs' his wand imploded on the end, a rapidly swelling mass of flames sticking to the end. Ron waved his wand unintelligibly, flinging the fireball at the Troll.

The fire exploded in mid-air raining sparks and flames onto the Troll. Harry was impressed only for it to be squashed when the wood on the ground caught aflame. He scrambled away, not knowing any spells to help with that. Smoke spiraled from the burning wood and Harry coughed when he got a deep inhale of it.

"How do you kill this thing?!" He screeched at Ron, ducking again as the Troll swung his club randomly. The wood collided with the wall and the wall cracked while pieces flew and rained downwards.

Ron dove to the sound. "Why the fuck would I know?"

"Because you were raised in the Magical World, and I wasn't!"

"That means nothing!"

Ron had a very good point, but Harry didn't say that. Hermione screamed again as the Troll neared her, squirming frantically in her holds. The club was getting too close to her for comfort... Harry sprinted forward, leaping up and wrapping his legs around the Troll's neck. 'Bit too much like a Gryffindor but you do what you gotta do... At least Hermione isn't hurting herself unnecessarily anymore.' The girl had gone shock still and was watching Harry with wide eyes and pale skin.

§ Loki! Bite the Moutain-Walker! § If Ron or Hermione noticed the snake language, they said nothing, and Loki slithered out and shimmered as he formed into a Black Mamba. His fangs glistened with clear venom, and he sank them into the Troll's thick skin. Harry clawed at the skin of the Troll as it roared in pain, twisting and turning wildly. His legs locked around the thick skin as good as they could be apparently that wasn't enough.

A large hand came and clawed at its neck and Harry cried out when it flung him off. His body collided with sharp pieces of wood and he sucked in a sharp breath when a horrid cracking sound came from his ribs. Black danced in his vision, dizzying him with sparkly dots of white.

§ Hatchling! § Came Loki's enraged hiss from the still roaring Troll.

Ron looked angry and scared but he pointed his wand regardless and cried out: "Wingardium Leviosa!" The Troll's club lifted and Ron swung it fiercely, forcing the wood to bash the Troll over the head. The Troll swayed and stumbled, but that didn't look like enough for the angry redhead. "Sword!" The club shuddered and began forming into an overly large sword. Ron swung it around wildly, slicing cuts of all sizes into the Troll, cutting its arm off and slicing deeply into its midsection, before managing to slit its throat.

The troll landed with a thump, a bluey-red-but-not-purple color seeped from the wounds, pooling and dripping around the Troll. The sword dropped, clattering loudly against the ground, coated in blood and goo. The troll's head lolled to the said, it's neck muscles and bones visible to Harry from the angle it had landed in. Harry thought it was interesting in a gory, morbid way. It definitely looked like something from a horror movie that's for sure.

Ron stumbled back, his freckles the most prominent color on his face. He stumbled over to Hermione, who was pale and crying, but completely still. Harry lifted himself up, swallowing a cry of pain from his chest. Loki had curled around his leg, no doubt smelling the injuries on his chest. His heart pounded frantically in his chest and his hands trembled, his legs nearly buckling when he managed all his weight up.

He looked up at Hermione and narrowed his eyes at the red lines on Hermione's wrist and arms. Those were the same ones that Rowle had held him with. Anger surged through him at the thought of all this being the eejit's fault. Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling of the magic from the candlestiks. The Potter Family Magic. It was Olde Magicks and he wondered if it could overpower Rowle's family magicks. He desperately hoped so.

Harry called on the magic, asking if they could free his friend from her binds, a friend to the descendant of all of them.

A Griffin came into his vision, twisting itself into Stag. It bowed low before prancing off. A red coil covered with fire came into his vision and he watched the Stag turn into a Griffin again and claw at the coil with a piercing scream. The flame was extinguished, and the Griffin gave Harry a dip of its head before imploding into golden wisps.

Harry opened his eyes with a gasp and saw Hermione collapse, landing roughly on the ground. He hobbled over, leaning heavily against the wall before ending up just crawling through the debris and dust. He fell next to her, a bone-deep ache filling him as he leaned to the side, his eyes fluttering open and close. Ron sat down next to him carefully and took Hermione's wrists into his hands. The skin was burned deeply, raw and bloody. Whimpers came from her as Ron cradled them carefully.

The sinks that were mostly undamaged caught his eye and he narrowed his eyes at a slightly broken pipe. He nudged Ron weakly, and the redhead looked at him. He opened his mouth only for no sound to come out, his lungs still in the steel-hard grip of panic. Instead he nodded to the sinks and made an explosive motion with his hands. Ron gave him a look before staring at the sinks.

Then he grabbed his wand and scrunched up his face as he waved his wand. "Burst." The pipes burst and cool water sprayed on that. Harry opened his mouth and swallowed the water that he could catch; his throat had been burning from breathing in the smoke and dust from the stalls, so the water was very much welcome.

Hermione held out her arms, looking relieved for the water. Ron smeared the dirt on his face as he rubbed it with wet hands, but Harry didn't say anything.

Their relief however was short-lived as 4 teachers, Professors Snape, Flitwick, McGonagall, and Quirrell, burst into the bathroom, wands ready.

Professor Snape stared at them and Harry could taste the flames that burst in the dark-eyed man.

"What," he snarled, "are you three doing here?"

Harry winced at the tone, swallowing the water that had been collected in his mouth. Standing carefully, he helped Ron and Hermione stand before looking back at the Professors. However, he was interrupted as he opened his mouth.

"Perhaps, we should first ask why that is written on the wall." Harry looked at Professor Flitwick, who was pointing to the wall with a dark look on his face. Turning around, he looked at the wall, spotting the writing easily. Anger seeped into his veins and he glowered at the red smeared words in disgust.

MUDBLOODS DON'T BELONG IN SLYTHERIN

(-)

Ron stumbled after Professor Snape, who had a passed-out Harry in his arms, reaching out and gripping the edge of his robes. The Potion's Master jerked back slightly, looking back to see him holding onto his robes. He pursed his lips but didn't say anything to Ron, but when he did begin walking again, he was marginally slower than before which Ron was grateful for.

His arms were still trembling from the sheer panic and terror of fighting the Troll; his heart felt as though it would never slow to back to its normal pace and he constantly bit his lips to stave off the tears that wanted to fall.

Harry had tried to explain what had happened after Hermione had tried to take most of the blame. Ron had shut her quickly and Harry had managed about 3 sentences before he collapsed. It seemed that it was only then that the Professors noticed their injuries. Well, Professor Snape had been hovering over them, seeming to be ready for one of them to collapse.

Ron's eyes flicked to wear Hermione was, walking tiredly next to Professor Flitwick. She had refused to be floated or carried, holding her wrists close to her. If he strained his ears, he could vaguely hear her talking to the Professor about something most of her words not caught at all by him. Professor Flitwick was answering her just as softly, his hand in between her shoulder blades in a silent encouragement.

Turning his attention back to Professor Snape, he gave a soft tug to let the tall man that he was walking too fast. The long strides slowed, and Ron stumbled a bit to catch up, tightening his grip on the black robes.

However long it took to get to the Hospital Wing was far too long because by that time Ron had taken to reciting every Goblin King that Professor Binns mentioned to keep himself awake. Madame Pomphrey came bustling over and ushered him to a bed while Professor Snape placed Harry down on the bed, Hermione being helped up by Professor Flitwick.

He settled in cautiously, trying to calm himself though he knew it wouldn't work. Ron tucked his legs against his chest and watched as Madame Pomphrey flitted over from Harry to Hermione with lots of tittering and whispered commands. Professor Snape was pulling out so many potions from his robes that Ron was sure the Professor could have supplied a tiny apothecary. He massaged Harry's throat gently to get the potions into his throat and was feeling over his chest, a frown marring his face.

The pale man stood straight and looked at the matron. "He had at least 2 broken ribs and a concussion most likely. I'll have to vanish the bones and give him Skele-Grow. Ron watched as Madame Pomphrey nodded and Professor Snape set to work, waving his wand in a careful and deliberate manner; despite that, he kept watch, wanting to make sure nothing else happened to Harry that could harm him.

Madame Pomphrey was carefully rubbing some paste or balm on Hermione's wrists before bandaging them gently. She was handed a little phial, probably a sleeping potion because she'd already downed a few healing ones, before the Matron bustled over to him. She began waving her wand with a word, making his flinch slightly at the rapid movements. Giving a light hum, she ran her finger over the list before giving a decisive nod. "Yes, you seem to be just fine, if only a small head injury and a touch of magical depletion. You were likely hit by some debris but didn't notice. I'll give you a potion for sleeping and then you should be fine, Mr. Weasley."

And without a further thought of his health, she turned and walked away to fuss over Harry, lining up a few potions on his bedside, flitting back to Hermione to give her little wooden jar and then she was gone to fill away her charts probably. Ron said nothing, only rubbing his arms carefully to soothe the aches and throbs in them.

Bitterness slid down his spine, making his fingers tingle and chest heavy. Of course, he was just Ron Weasley, she'd probably gotten enough of his family with 5 other sons before him, just how much more exasperating could he be? He tugged on his lip roughly between his teeth, looking away and out of the window where a quarter filled moon stared down at him. His red hair brushed into his face and he glared up at it, wishing it were any other color but the one it was currently. It was the trademark Weasley hair, along with his lots of freckles, and suddenly he wished he had any other color of hair and clear, unblemished skin. Maybe then Madame Pomphrey wouldn't disregard him, or his parents would notice him as different. That sounded absolutely amazing to Ron.

Sighing, he laid down, waiting silently for Madame Pomphrey to give him his potion. 'If she even remembered about him.' came the answering angry thought. No, she had to remember... Ron wasn't that forgettable.. right?

He jolted when a deep voice spoke next to him, startling him from his thoughts. Professor Snape was standing next to his cot, so tall and still that he could've been a award-winning representation of a stone statue. "Oh, um.. Professor.." Ron hated how small his voice sounded, it made him look pathetic.

"A dreamless sleep for you; your concussion, however minor Madame Pomphrey thinks it is, warrants a few days of recuperation in the Hospital Wing. May I see your hands and arms please?" Slightly caught off-guard, Ron held out his arms, shivering as long, cold fingers slid over them. Wincing, he tugged his arm as Professor Snape spelled out a few splinters and rubbed some balm on a few bruises. The soft aches in his arms dulled and he gave a trying smile that probably came out as a grimace.

His Head of House stayed perfectly still and stared at him for a few moments. "You were very brave to go fight the troll. Although, I am curious. How did you make the sword?"

Ron blushed and ducked his head. "Um, magic is mostly will and intention and I wanted the troll to leave them alone. I wanted a sword or a really large needle or whatever so yeah..." He trailed off, gesturing his hands out before letting them fall lamely onto his lap.

"Quite extraordinary. I have saved the sword of course, as you are the maker and it belongs to you. I'm sure your parents will be very proud. 20 points to Slytherin for excellent work. And perhaps 10 points to you and Mr. Potter for working together to help Ms. Granger." Ron stared, his eyes wide. "I will write a letter to your father and mother as the protocol for Hogwarts insists. I wonder if Ms. Granger's parents would enjoy a tour of Hogwarts." He was pretty sure Professor Snape meant the last thing more for himself but Ron heard it anyway; not that he said anything. No, it was better to not say anything and make sure he doesn't get into anymore trouble.

"Thanks you sir." Professor Snape nodded before holding out a phial of a dreamy blue potion. He took it with slightly shaky hands, giving another trying smile to his Professor. "Good night sir."

"Sleep well Mr. Weasley." The darkly dressed man left, turning back only once to look at Ron, who was watching him carefully. Only once Professor Snape left did he carefully get out of bed and slink over to Harry, even though his legs protested heartily. Harry's eyelids twitched slightly and it was only through years of practice did Ron know that his breathing wasn't deep enough to be sleeping.

Nudging him softly, he wiped some leftover dirt off his face. Green eyes snapped open at the contact and Ron felt the brush of something very dangerous around him before it relaxed and it felt like a purring cat. "Hey." Harry's voice was raspy but he smiled softly. He scooted over slightly and his hand weakly patted the spot next to him. Startled, Ron stared at the space for a few moments before sitting lightly, bringing his legs up over the edge.

His bed came over just as quickly, pressing itself to Harry's bed. Hermione's bed wobbled before coming over as well, the fire breath owl on it, looking up in confusion. It snuggled on the other side of Harry's bed and Hermione stared at them in silence. Her brown eyes looked black in the low light, small smudges of powder on her face and neck; there were a few slicks of wood in her hair too.

"Does this mean we're friends?"

It was a silent question from Hermione. Ron scoffed, unable to help himself.

"Of course we are, I don't go around fighting trolls for strangers you know."

Harry nodded in agreement. "Exactly, and we already were friends before Hermione. This just solidifies it I think; guess you two are stuck with me."

Ron grinned at Harry, who smiled at Hermione, to which she smiled at the both of them. "I can live with that. Right, Ron?"

He nodded in agreement and downed his potion. Laying down, he laid his head on his pillow.

"Goodnight you guys."

He wasn't sure if they ever answered because the exhaustion in his bones swept him away into a heavy sleep.

Ron woke up to loud whispers, the voices muddying into a thick mess of sounds. He strained his ears, trying to figure out who it was that was talking. The voices became clearer but were drowned out slightly but soft huffs coming from next to him. Speaking of which, what the fuck was next to him that puffed? He shifted marginally and internally groaned at the voices immediately became hushed.

He opened one eye just a bit, staring at the blurry figures of one mass of color, another of black, one was pale, and the other had a pointy top. Who was that? He opened his eyes fully, blinking stop the fuzziness. the masses became people and his mind blanked.

Shit.

It was the Headmaster, Professor Snape, Lucius Malfoy, and Madame Pomphrey all in a whispered argument with one another. Well, you couldn't tell that it was an argument by the Headmaster's face who was looking very aloof and happy, talking in cheerful whispers. Professor Snape looked like he was going to throttle somebody, Lucius Malfoy looked bored but he was gripping his cane with white knuckles, and Madame Pomphrey was getting increasingly frustrated.

Looking down, he stared at Harry who was sleeping soundly, with Hermione who was curled up like a cat tucked right next to Harry. Snuggling back under the duvet, Ron closed his eyes and allowed himself to be lulled back to sleep.

A twin set of eyes was the first thing Ron saw when his eyes opened, startling him from the sheets he was twisted in. He yelped as he fell off the side of his cot, scrunching his face as his head banged on the floor. His ankle caught and turned at an abnormal angle. Swallowing a cry of pain, Ron wiggled out of the sheets that followed him, careful to not jostle his ankle that you could tell was twisted.

Not that the twins noticed, they were too busy laughing, the adults were all arguing on the other side of the room, and Ron didn't want to wake Harry or Hermione. He pulled himself onto the bed, giving a pained grunt as he landed on the bed roughly. Taking a deep breath, he pulled himself up fully, blinking to stop the dizziness that had hit him.

"Hmm Ron? Wazz happ'n?" He looked over and saw Hermione looking at him blearily, sleep still in her eyes. She yawned and propped herself up on her elbows, swaying a bit due to the slow exhaustion.

"Nothing Mia- You should go back to sleep." Out of the corner of his eye, Ron saw Fred and George calming down, looking maybe regretful that they woke up Hermione. 'But not their own brother, typical.' Laughing bitterly internally, Ron gave Hermione a gentle poke to get her to sleep, careful to not jostle Harry.

Hermione, however, did not seem to want to sleep. "Nuu... gonna stay 'wake- don' wan go bac' slepp.." Her words slurred together in the most un-Hermione-like manner but she seemed resolute to stay awake, so Ron did not push.

She rubbed her eyes and blinked a few times, look more alert each time her eyes opened. Her eyes fixated on the twins, and she stared at them. They stilled up her intense gaze before grinning at her.

The twin on the left gestrued to himself. "I'm Gred!-"

"-and I'm Forge-"

"-and together,-"

"-we make-"

"-The Weasley Prankster Extraordinaires!" They finished together, giving a low sweeping bow. Hermione didn't look all that impressed but nodded.

"Very nice to meet you, Messrs. Weasley." She swept her eyes over to him and raised an eyebrow. "Your siblings, I presume?" Her tip-top posh accent made him feel more like a rag-muffin than he'd ever felt before.

Ron nodded. "Yes."

She hummed and pushed herself up fully, tugging softly on her wild curls. There were faint tremors running through her and he flicked his eyes down to see her breathing a bit more heavily than she should. Hermione always did become more formal when she was panicking. "Do you know what the big commotion is with the adults?"

Ron looked over and saw that Lucius Malfoy had a few other people with him, with Professors Snape, Flitwick, and McGonagall as well as the headmaster. He wondered what was so important that was worth arguing so much about. He froze when dark eyes slid over, and a soft relief seemed to crease the face of the Potion's Professor.

He looked away, racking his brain for something to ask the twins. "Don't you two have classes? Why're you here?"

They grinned before sobering. "Classes are cancelled because of the Troll! And because Mum and Dad were told, and they are making quite the storm. Percy should be here soon, y'know Prefect duties are much more important than ickle Ronnikins." Ron clamped his mouth shut despite the fact that his heart just about shriveled into a black piece of coal.

He shook his head, focusing on the fact that his Mum and Dad were written too by Professor Snape (most likely anyways) and the mere thought had panic flooding through him. His dad he knew didn't mind Slytherins, Ron's Nana was a Slytherin, but his mum was a territory he didn't know anything about. This was not something he liked. It left him unprepared and vulnerable; if he knew what was coming than he had time to prepare but when he didn't know, it made a false hope well in him and that left him even more vulnerable.

But his mother married his father, knowing full well what kind of family he came from, and she knew exactly who his parents were. But Nana and Mum never did get along well, he saw the stilted smiles and the frigid manners that they had both displayed when his Nana and Gramps were alive. At the funeral, Mum hadn't said anything only placing a few flowers on the casket, but she didn't seem very distraught. She'd comforted Arthur but Ron had heard her mutterings about Nana once the funeral was over and she was in the kitchen, cooking up a meal for dinner.

So, all in all, Ron safely concluded that his mum was not going to be happy when he saw her. He sighed and scratched at the edges of his nails in a nervous tic.

The Hospital Wing doors all but banged open and Ron started, hissing softly at the pain in his leg and the soft throb that rocketed through his head. Hermione had leaped up, her wand shooting into her hand by reflex, only to fall back on the bed swaying. Harry only stirred a little bit and Ron was convinced that the soft rippling on his shirt had to be his imagination.

Walking in was his mum with Ginny following behind her looking around in awe, his father who looked royally pissed, and 2 other figures that had Hermione gasping in shock- her parents then.

Carefully scooting away to the edge of the bed, Ron watched as the adults dissolved into even more arguing. The twins watched in fascination, making bets about who would throw the first punch, curse, and so forth. Hermione blinked before laying back down and closing her eyes, sighing in exasperation.

About 15 minutes later, Ron pulled out a book from the bedside table, which he just now noticed had his bag on the shelf. He glared in annoyance at the letters before reading anyways, although it probably looked more like he was just staring at the pages than reading with how hard it was for him. The book was actually quite fun once he figured out the words.

It was mostly about different configurations about defensive spells and how you can turn them into offensive spells if you do a small bit of seemingly insignificant in changing the pronunciation or a letter or two. It was interesting really and he marked a few of them to read and practice.

He looked up when a colored mass approached and saw that Headmaster Dumbledore was coming over. Ron zeroed in on his wand. Professor Snape marched forward looking murderous. "You cannot wake him up! He has severe magical exhaustion, a concussion, and 4 healing ribs, with extensive bruising! It would be the height of stupidity to wake him at this moment!" His Head of House was practically spitting barbs dipped in venom at this point, glaring at the Headmaster as though he could burn the instructions into his brain via eyeballing. With how hard he was looking at him, Ron wouldn't put it past him to figure it out.

Unfortunately, the Headmaster looked entirely aloof and took out his wand. He cast a non-verbal waking spell and Harry's face scrunched in discomfort. Green eyes fluttered open, and they were dazed with sleep and pain apparently. He opened his mouth, but his eyes bugged out, a choked sound of pain came from him as he squeezed his eyes shut, curling into a ball. Harry whimpered and Ron glared at the headmaster, twitching to either punch the elderly man or help Harry, which really wasn't possible considering the fact that his touch would most likely hurt Harry.

Ron took a deep breath and began counting to 20 to calm himself down like Hermione always suggested.

'Just get this fucking over with.'

xXXxXXxXXx

Hermione wandered through the Library, pulling on her sleeves to cover her bandaged arms. She pulled books from the shelves, feeling a boiling pit of anger in her stomach.

Her footsteps light and even, she ran her fingers along the dusty shelves in the back of the library, her eyes searching for the book that she had thought so terrible. It was now perfect for the revenge she intended to exact. Stopping, her eyes caught on a little journal size book wedged in between 2 large books.

Pulling all 3 of them down, she took a quick survey of the blank covers. That was odd. Frowning, she opened the first book, taking care in turning the crinkly yellowed pages. The wording was in Old English but she managed to understand most of it. Flipping through it, she ran her finger over a recipe, skimming it over to go over to the purpose of the potion.

'Fire Bones Potion - The feeling that there is a Fire burning your bones.'

Smirking, she closed the book and skimmed the other two, laughing inwardly. They were perfect. She put them in her bag, mostly due to the fact that Madame Pince would most definitely not allow her to check them out and would probably notify the Headmaster. Which really, was counterproductive so she opted to just breaking the rule. Not like anyone was ever going to find out.

She went farther back, near the Restricted Section, eyes wandering for the books with bloodied pictures and spells.

Hermione pulled on the black and gold spine, fingering through the pages. Anger ran deep in her veins, and all she could feel was a soft purr of approval from her Mother as she ran her fingers over the imagery she had once thought horrible.

She'd been furious to learn that they hadn't found the people who dared do this to her daughter, her deep brown eyes smouldering with a red sheen as she tipped her head back to stare at the Headmaster. Her thick accent lade heavily on her venom-dripping words as she hissed out a threat to the elderly man. Hermione knew that her mother had noticed the affronted looks that it had gained her from the Professors, but she twirled her thin dagger in between her fingers and asked if the Headmaster understood.

Harry hadn't been much better, his green eyes flashing dangerously though he hung behind her and Ron, not saying anything except to tell his side of the story; when he got to the part about the words, her father was absolutely livid, his normally soft eyes harder than iron and colder than ice chips.

The headmaster hadn't seemed to really believe that Ron could make a sword simply from intention but Professor Snape vouched for him, casting a glowy image of what Ron's sword looked like.

The blade was a perfectly slim diamond form, a luminescent silver; the handle was gold with little stones on the hilt and pommel, glinting clear and a multitude of different colors. It was absolutely gorgeous, and Ron had flushed in pride when Hermione and Harry proceeded to say as much.

Of course, the Headmaster didn't seem to think that Ron should have custody of such a thing, stating it was far too dangerous for a 11-year-old to have. (She was really starting to dislike the man she had previously thought to be great) Ron's mother agreed readily, rounding on Ron to let the Headmaster have the sword.

Ron had given a soft, "No, it's my sword and I want to keep it," with an approving nod from his father who shut down his mother when she went to argue. From the withering look the dumpy woman had given the man, they were probably going to get in one of those long drawn-out fights adults had when they didn't agree on things.

Hermione tucked the book away, wondering when the Slytherin House would learn that they made a mistake. She'd thought that they were the house of self-preservation but that didn't seem to be the case. They attacked her, thinking that she would be helpless; that she would've died in the attack and that was that. There is no twisting it an making it seem nicer like the Headmaster had tried to do. She was going to hurt them just as they did her. And if they got hurt just a little bit more... well that was okay.

An Eye for an Eye as they say, right?

(-)

Harry stared at Ron, his faces drawn out in a frown.

They were sitting in the library, surrounded by books that they probably weren't supposed to be looking at. Ron thought the book about the rituals was interesting, the runic patterns something he knew because of Bill. He'd read some of his curse-breaker books despite the fact that his mother had forbidden him from doing so after catching him doing it once in the living room.

He'd showed them to Harry, describing some of the patterns and the way they worked. Though he didn't seem to understand some of it, he allowed Ron to ramble on and on about it until Ron caught himself telling Harry information that he probably didn't need to know.

They'd flipped through it looking at the rituals before he stopped, staring at the one called the Aura Sighter. Which actually wasn't exactly the best name for it as it was really allowing the ritualist's magic to develop in a way that would allow them to sense danger. Whether it be in a magic or a person. So really is was more a Mage Sense type power than anything but Harry seemed excited by it nonetheless.

Only Ron had told them how complex it was, how they weren't strong enough to even try to perform it. Harry had slumped in disappointment but nodded anyways.

"Then what about spells that might help?"

Ron nodded. "There are some books near the back, but there is this one spell..." He took the book out, a pristinely clean dark blue book with fine creme pages. The words spelled out in gentle loops and curves although they were coiled tight. He pointed to a spell he thought was best.

"Videre Delusio or Falsus Illusio, I think. They're hallucination spells. What do you think?"

Harry nodded, staring at his with green eyes that looked far too dangerous for his young face. Too bright and too deadly. Like a pool of poison. "I think it's amazing." His voice was soft and he smiled, something built of glass and having too many jagged edges. But it fit him, scarily enough.

Ron drew himself from the memory, staring blankly at the wall in front of him.

The smile Harry had given him said that he was dangerous, Ron always knew that but to get that sort of smile, it sent ice down his back and goosebumps on his arms. But at the same time, it was comforting to know that if anything happened to them, Harry would get revenge, he would take care of them. It was odd but not terrible. And a touch scary but who wasn't sometimes? It was like Dad and that time he got into a fight because some kids were picking on Percy.

So, he drew his wand and pointed it at the immobile rat he'd found. "Videre Delusio." The rat let out a loud storm of squeaking and began convulsing but Ron didn't care.

All he could feel was the incredible euphoria that had just burst through him.