Staring at him, Hermione tried not to cry.
How could he even suggest that she made people feel stupid? It wasn't as if she called people names like Ron Weasely or Draco Malfoy.
All she had ever done was try to do her best.
"I don't know what you are talking about," she said. She looked away from him.
"Imagine that you were playing basketball with a group of three year olds," Steven said, his voice patient. "And you kept making basket after basket. How long would it be before they started to resent you?"
"They aren't three!" Hermione snapped. "They've all got the same opportunities I have...some even more than me. The purebloods have been around d magic their whole lives."
"So have I," Steven said. "And I still need your help."
"It's not the same thing," she said impatiently. "They can study just as easily as I can."
"Can they?" Steven asked. "How many of them get things on the first try like you do?"
"Then they should work harder, instead of spending all their time worrying about quidditch and dresses and...whatever they spend their spare time on."
"Like friends?" Steven asked.
Hermione flushed and looked away.
"Everybody knows you are the smartest," Steven said. "You don't have anything to prove."
"Tell that to Draco and his pureblood friends."
"Do you really care what they think?" Steven said. He grimaced. "It would be nice to think you can be friends with everybody, but some people..."
He sighed.
"It's got to be hiding something," Ron was saying. "Or they wouldn't put a bloody three headed dog in the middle of a school."
"There's a trap door under it," Harry added.
Steven was sitting at the Gryffindor table as he sometimes did. He spent more time with Hermione that Harry and Ron usually, but currently they were on the outs.
"I like dogs," Steven said. "I'll bet a dog with three heads is even better than one with one."
Ron shook his head. "It nearly took our heads off. We were lucky to get away with our skins."
Hermione passed by and Harry and Ron grew quiet.
Steven waved, but she walked to the end of the table.
"She's still mad at me," Steven said glumly.
"Somebody had to tell her," Ron said. "She was bloody unbearable."
Harry stared at her and said, "She's been better, though. She was a lot nicer about helping us with Wingardium Leviosa."
"You should be nicer to her," Steven said. "She'd be a great friend."
"Her?" Ron shook his head. "She's..."
Harry elbowed him in the side. "You should be nicer. After what you said to Hannah Abbott today..."
Steven frowned. "What did he say to her? Hannah's my friend."
Ron flushed. "I didn't mean anything by it."
"It upset her enough that she's been crying in the girl's bathroom all afternoon," Harry said.
"What did you say?" Steven asked, staring at Ron.
Before Ron could reply, Professor Quirrell staggered into the dining hall. "Troll...in the dungeons..."
He fell to the ground.
There was chaos immediately, and people only stopped talking when Dumbledore lit off fireworks with his wand.
"Prefects...lead your housemate back to the dormitories immediately."
Steven stood to go with his housemates, who were looking confused.
Harry said, "Hannah won't know about the troll."
"Which bathroom is she in?" Steven asked.
"The girls' bathroom on this floor," Harry said.
"I'll tell the prefect," Steven said. "It's not too far out of the way. We'll swing by and pick her up. Hufflepuffs take care of their own."
He gave Ron a hard look, and Ron had the grace to look chastened.
Steven ran up to the prefect assigned to his year. "Hannah Abbot's in the girl's bathroom, and she won't know about the troll."
The male and female prefects glanced at each other and scowled.
"It's on the way," Steven said.
They nodded, grimly.
"Hufflepuffs," they said. "With us."
Rounding up the frightened, confused members of Steven's year group took longer than it should have.
The Slytherins and Ravenclaws left in an orderly fashion, and the Gryffindors left rowdily.
Finally, the older teenagers managed to get the puffs rounded up and moving in an orderly fashion.
They were anxious; Steven could see it in their body language, but they did their best not to let the younger children know.
Steven followed to the rear, making sure the other children didn't fall behind. The two teenagers should have had one in the front and one in the rear, but in their anxiety they walked closely together, muttering to each other in uneasy voices.
They were getting close to the girls' bathroom, and Steven felt a sense of relief. They'd gather Hannah and get back to their rooms and everyone would be safe.
The front of the group turned a corner and Steven suddenly heard a roar and a scream.
He grimaced and threw himself through the group of scattering Hufflepuffs.
Both prefects were on the ground; it looked like they'd been hit by shrapnel from where the troll had struck the wall with it's club.
It was twelve feet tall, and it probably seemed huge to the children behind him. But it wasn't even in the top ten compared to the gem monsters Steven had fought.
The smell, though was much worse than any of them.
He stepped forward, his hands open.
"Can't we talk about this?" he said, forcing a smile.
The creature stared at him and it didn't seem to understand a word he said.
It growled and started running toward them.
Steven glanced behind him and sighed. He'd hoped that the others would have had the sense to run, but instead they were frozen, staring up at the creature bearing down on them.
"All right," he said. "Let's do this."
As the club came crashing down toward him, he summoned his shield.
Snape forced himself not to grimace. Fluffy had bitten him, and there hadn't been time to find a healing potion.
An entire year of Hufflepuffs were missing, and the threat of the troll was apparently entirely real. Undoubtedly it had been released by Quirrell as a distraction in his attempt to steal the stone.
He'd managed to thwart him for the evening, but the missing class was still a matter of concern.
"What's that noise?"
Minerva stopped and listened.
In the distance they could hear a crashing sound, and the sound of singing.
Flitwick moved behind him, quickly considering the size of his legs. With a glance at the other teachers, Snape began to run.
As they turned the corner, they stopped. Despite himself, Severus couldn't help but stare.
A group of Hufflepuffs was huddled in a terrified group while Steven Universe fought the troll.
In one hand he held a shield that was obnoxiously pink. In the other he held what looked like a plank from the door to the girl's bathroom.
The club lashed out, striking the shield and the boy continued to sing.
There was something odd about his fighting style. He kept stopping for short periods, almost as though he expected something to happen that clearly was not happening.
Hand to hand fighting wasn't at all popular among Wizardkind, although some purebloods took up fencing as a hobby. It took Severus a moment to realize what was wrong with the boy's fighting style.
He was used to fighting in a team, and he kept unconsciously reaching for a partner who wasn't there.
How he was able to sing and roll between the troll's legs, Severus had no idea. He didn't know the song, but it seemed to be about protecting friends.
The troll looked confused. A moment later, the boy hit him behind the knees .
A moment after that he was falling, directly onto the boy. The troll's head hit the floor with a loud cracking sound.
Minerva rushed forward, but the body was already rolling to the side.
"I'm gonna need a bath," Severus heard the boy mutter.
A moment later he smelled the distinct smell of troll. This one was even more malodorous than the usual member of its species.
Steven stared at the troll even as Minerva rushed up to him.
"It's ok!" he called out. "You can come out now Hannah."
From the girls' bathroom, and frightened looking Hufflepuff slowly emerged, staring at the troll.
"Are you all right, Mr. Universe?" Minerva asked, regaining her composure.
Steven shrugged. "I'm fine."
"Why were you singing?"
"I was hoping a professor would hear me before I had to hurt him," Steven said, glancing down at the unconscious troll. "Gem monsters just go poof, but..."
The implication was that he could have taken the troll down more quickly if he'd been willing to hurt him.
The boy had obviously been given combat training of some kind.
Snape had known he was dangerous, but if he was able to take down a full grown mountain troll this easily, he was even more dangerous than he'd believed.
"Where are your prefects?" Minerva asked sternly.
The boy paled, rushing over to two bodies laying on the floor.
The huddled mass of Hufflepuffs had obscured them. Severus stifled a curse and stepped forward. "We need to get them to Pomfrey right away."
"I think they got hit by shrapnel," Steven was saying. He stared at them for a moment, then he suddenly brightened.
To Severus's disgust, he licked both his hands, knelt down, and before any of the professors could stop him, he slapped his hands on both teenagers heads.
As the wounds began to knit themselves, he grinned up at them.
"I've got healing spit!"