Harry had never liked Halloween. It was always a day when Dudley got to go out and obtain obscene amounts of candy, while he was forced to stay "out of sight" in his cupboard. All-in-all, it was far from an ideal experience. His opinion of the day did not improve upon his return to the magical world, whereupon he learned that it was the day that his parents died.
His opinion of the day dropped even further when he learned that the wizarding world celebrated said day in remembrance of his defeat of Voldemort.
Which, as it happened, was a feat that he didn't remember accomplishing and that cost him any chance of having a normal childhood.
So no, Harry did not like Halloween.
Of course, since it was the anniversary of the day he "defeated" Voldemort, he expected even more well-wishers and boy-who-lived fans than usual.
Harry was never more grateful that Zabini never said anything to him, ever. A silent roommate was one of the best things he could have asked for. And man, was Zabini ever silent. If they weren't required to use incantations to cast spells, he didn't think he'd even know what Zabini's voice sounded like.
He left his dorm room to see the familiar sight of Hermione leaning up against the wall, nose buried in a book. What had started as Hermione's desire not to be left alone had since become a comfortable routine between the two of them. They enjoyed each other's company, and didn't enjoy the company of others.
"Get ready, Hermione. I suspect it's going to be a trying day."
Harry would later muse just how correct that suspicion was, even if it wasn't for the reasons he expected.
"It's hopeless." Neville muttered to himself after he – yet again – failed to cast the levitation spell. "I'm hopeless at magic."
Malfoy scoffed at Neville's self-deprecation. "Probably because you're using such garbage wand. Couldn't your grandmother afford to get you a new one, Longbottom?"
Neville frowned at the wand in his hand, the small scratches and abrasions from years of wear and tear evident on its surface.
"It was my dad's wand. Gran said that he was a great wizard and that if I use it, I should be great, too."
"Well that's rubbish. Get yourself a new wand. I'm sure McGonagall would be fine with a brief excursion to Diagon to get a replacement."
"I dunno, Draco, Gran's scary…"
"So is McGonagall, and if you won't go to her, then I will. I won't imagine she'll be happy that one of her students is sabotaging himself."
Neville shuddered at the prospect of an angry McGonagall tracking him down. He only had to live with his Gran for two months of the year, while he was around McGonagall for the remaining ten.
"I'll talk to her about it after classes today."
"You'll talk to her about it sooner." Draco said. "I'd hate to have to go through the effort of telling her myself."
"So would I…" Neville muttered.
"So," Minerva began, "we're two months into the new year, and I think it's high time we check in with each other again. Making sure no one's falling behind academically, preventing students' personal crises when we can, and, perhaps most importantly, see how our new students are settling in. I think the fact that we continue to do that last one is even more vital given the… oddities that happened at the welcoming feast."
Minerva did not feel the need to specifically mention the sorting. It would be unprofessional to mention the outlier students by name, after all.
"Pomona, anything to mention?"
Left unstated was the fact that Hufflepuff received the most outlier students.
"Miss Bones was a bit disgruntled and isolated for a while, though she's since settled in with Mister Weasley and Mister Hopkins. Mister Weasley himself acclimated to the house surprisingly well, given his outburst after the Hat declared him a Hufflepuff. Misters Crabbe and Goyle, though, well, their academic prowess leaves much to be desired. They're performing well enough thanks to the support of their peers, but I question how well they'd be able to perform outside the communal study groups in my house."
"My Ravens have settled in quite cleanly." Filius stated, though he'd gotten the least outliers, so that was to be expected. "Miss Patil, Padma, that is, has been in a bit of a tuff over her sister going to Slytherin, though she's not let her academics suffer as a result; No other students stand out."
Minerva was surprised to hear that. Miss Bulstrode was not among those anticipated for Ravenclaw, and to hear that she was having no issues was surprising. Still, professionalism prevented her from naming Miss Bulstrode specifically. That sort of disapproval was just as much of an issue as favouritism could be.
"I see," Minerva said, "My Lions have settled in fairly well, all things considered. Miss Parkinson frequently accosted me about Mister Malfoy's 'silly brooding', but I was forced to inform her the 'the attractiveness of her future betrothed' was not a concern I could address. Mister Longbottom has struggled academically, though he came to me earlier today and informed me that the wand he was using was not his own. I have since mailed Augusta, and plan on getting him a new one before November is out. Now, Severus, how are your Slytherins doi-"
"They're fine." Severus cut her off.
"Are you sure about that?" Pomona asked. "I've heard rumours that-"
"They're. Fine." Severus snarled.
Minerva sighed internally. Sometimes, that man could be far too stubborn for his own good. If by sometimes, one meant "every waking moment and a good majority of the sleeping ones as well". Unfortunately, house matters were supposed to be handled by their head of house, so Minerva was powerless to do anything in this instance.
Harry watched in mild envy as Hermione got her levitation charm right on the first try. Charms wasn't even her best subject! Harry was one of the best practical students in their year; it wasn't fair that Hermione was still better at picking up new spells than he was half the time. The only classes he could consistently outperform her in were defence, and flying. In all others, they were tied or he was outdone by her.
Harry managed to get the spell on his third attempt. He was still convinced that Hermione had some kind of brain encyclopedia that let her memorise how to do every spell before she even attempted it the first time.
"Oh, well done Miss Granger, Mister Potter!" Flitwick's squeaky voice rang out. "Five points to Slytherin, each. Could you please help some of your peers? Mister Potter, if you could help Misters Crabbe and Goyle; Miss Granger, if you could help Misters Hopkins and Weasley."
Harry did his best to guide Crabbe and Goyle through the motions, but it was a challenge.
"You're trying to cast with your wand, not beat something to death with it." He tried explaining to them. The two simply gave him a blank look before waving their wands like they wanted to stab their feathers with them. Harry tried to explain it to them several more times before he gave up and requested Flitwick's presence. As Harry wandered back to his seat, he saw a livid Ron giving an oblivious Hermione a nasty glare. He'd have to get better about that if he still wanted to be friends.
Ron was trying very hard not to stomp as he left with charms classroom with Susan and Wayne. He knew Granger was smart, and he was fine with that, but he really wished she wasn't constantly rubbing it in. She was always one of the best with spells. Sure, Harry wasn't far behind her, but he was the boy-who-lived! Of course he'd be good with spells.
He needed to vent his frustrations.
"Merlin, I can't stand her!" he complained. "Bloody brainiac always has to show off how smart she is. It's no wonder the Hat put her with the other snakes! Potter probably only hangs around her since she can do his homework for her. She'd be insufferable as an actual friend."
The sound of a soft sob behind him followed by a bushy head of hair running past made him realise he may not have been as quiet as he'd initially wanted to be.
Ron was then bowled over as a student with familiar black hair and green-trimmed robes shoved him over in pursuit of the crying Hermione.
Ron turned around and saw discomfort in Wayne's eyes and scorn in Susan's.
"That… that was pretty mean, Ron." Wayne said.
"I know," Ron huffed, "I just…"
"Well," Susan said, "I think you just lost your chance to get in with Potter. Those two have been pretty protective of each other for weeks. Insulting her like that probably ruined anything you might have been able to build."
Ron was immediately hit with guilt. He knew he was being mean, but he also really didn't plan on her hearing his venting. Her studious nature was so annoying! She even took notes in Binns' class! No one took notes in Binns' class! Hufflepuff had apparently just been duplicating the notes from his class for the past century!
"I… I should apologise to her, shouldn't I?"
Susan's eyes narrowed. "You should apologise regardless of whether or not she's Potter's friend, but I think you may have trouble getting near them. Potter's been known to hex people who annoy him, and you probably just landed yourself at the top of his list of acceptable targets."
Oof. Well, he'd try to apologise, but he sure as hell wouldn't push the issue if it got him a wand in his face.
"Hermione, get back here!"
"Go away!" She cried.
"No! God, Hermione, I'm not letting you just run off and wallow in your sorrow. Believe me, that doesn't work!"
Harry didn't have time to kick himself for slipping up about his past again.
Hermione was no longer running, but she had yet to turn to face him.
"C'mon," he said, "let's go to the library to get away from people. I have some food stored in my trunk so we can skip the feast and the crowds that come with it."
Hermione fell back into the familiar, albeit currently uncomfortable, stride with him.
"Thanks…" She said.
"No problem," he replied, "just be sure to do the same to me if I ever start to get broody, alright?"
She laughed, a welcome sign that he was approaching this well. He was never totally sure with social situations, after all.
"Ugh!" Tracey exclaimed, "This is hopeless! Potter and Granger are too reclusive! How are we supposed to befriend them if we don't even know the first thing about them!"
"I do find myself amused that you continue to make me a part of this, Tracey."
For once, Tracey wasn't in the mood for Daphne's sarcasm, so she just huffed in reply. She had no idea what to do, a situation that she was finding maddening. What good was being a schemer if she didn't know how to start making a scheme?
"Excuse me," an upper year Ravenclaw asked, "Did I hear you say that you needed information?"
Tracey regarded the intruder with suspicion. "Who wants to know?"
"Ah, I am but a Gatherer, but I believe our great leader can help you."
What? Did someone start a cult when she wasn't looking?
"Uh, if you can tell us about Potter and Granger, then yeah, sure."
"Follow me, then."
As the duo of snakes followed the raven, Daphne leaned over and whispered in Tracey's ear.
"You really need to learn how to say no, sometimes, Tracey."
The Dark Mistress of Knowledge regarded her throne room. She had extended her tendrils as far as she could manage, as now, all of Hogwarts was within her grasp. Soon, she would reach beyond, and hold all knowledge of the world and its denizens in her iron grip. As she mused on her ambitions, the door to the room opened, drowning out the eerie light of the room's bluebell flames with the fiery light of the dungeon corridor.
"Gatherer," She spoke, "Whom have you brought to me today?"
"Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass, Dark Mistress. They want information on Potter and Granger."
"I see. And did you discuss… payment… with them?"
"No, Oh Great Mistress of Knowledge, I decided that a price for this knowledge would be better left to your discretion."
"You decided well, Gatherer. Leave us so I can discuss terms with our honored guests."
Her Gatherer bowed deeply before scurrying from the room, closing the door and letting her bask in the eerie light of the bluebell flames once again.
"Welcome," she told her guests, "to the nexus. All information in Hogwarts passes through this room at some point, and to those who are willing to pay the cost, a portion of that knowledge can become theirs."
"Um, yeah, sure." Davis fidgeted beneath The Dark Mistress of Knowledge's imperious gaze.
"You seek information about Potter and Granger. Information on them will be pricier given their… reclusive nature. But, alas, this is your first time in my domain, so it would be wrong to charge you for knowledge when you have no way to confirm the veracity of what I can tell you. Know this: The Dark Mistress of Knowledge does not lie. I will offer you a discount on information your first time, but except no such luxuries in the future. Two galleons and nine sickles, please."
Davis stared at Greengrass until the blonde sighed and pulled out the money.
"Excellent!" The Dark Mistress cackled. She clapped her hands and another student came out and collected the duo's payment before moving back into the sideroom he came from.
"Potter and Granger are loners. The two are highly protective of each other, and distrustful of anyone else. The two had rather isolated childhoods, but my Gatherers have yet to learn any specifics. My reach is grand, but even it has limits. The two are studious, spending most of their free time in a table deep in the library. Granger is the best in her year at magical theory, while Potter excels at the practical. Granger's best field is transfiguration, while Potter has an intuitive grasp of combat spells. Potter has a sense of justice, but is tempered in his responses, and reluctant to act in any way that draws attention to himself. He is also rather annoyed with his 'boy-who-lived' title, and is distrustful of those who approach him about it.
The pair were both raised in muggle household unaware of magic. They are not likely to easily accept any intrusion into what they consider a comfortable status quo, so if your mission of befriending them is to succeed, you may have to use your more forceful side."
"Uh, how'd you know about my 'mission'?"
"The reach of my Gatherers is vast, and even you are not exempt from my gaze. Now, unless you have further business, then leave."
The Dark Mistress of Knowledge watched the pair of Slytherins leave her domain. All was going according to plan. She would start out charging money for her information, but eventually, she could start bartering knowledge for more knowledge, expanding her wares with each new trade.
Daphne and Tracey walked down the hallway in an uncomfortable silence after their encounter. Once Tracey was reasonably sure they were out of earshot, she decided to address the erumpent in the room.
"Daphne, why was Parvati Patil dressed in an oversized cloak and calling herself 'The Dark Mistress of Knowledge'? Did I miss something?"
"Tracey, you forget that my only metric for social interaction is you. I am the absolute worst person to ask about this."
"Oh, yeah. …What about your sister? You interact with her, right?"
"My sister? My sister who idolises you and thinks that I am 'boring'? She's basically a miniature you in training, and I fear the day you are both in Hogwarts at once."
"Oh yeah." Tracey grinned. "Gotta love Tori."
"I just wish she had better taste in role models."
Another silence fell over them while Tracey mulled things over.
"You know what, Daphne? I think I've been overthinking this."
"I've been telling you that from that start. You just never listened."
"I keep trying to come up with some convoluted scheme to befriend Potter, like getting a life-debt to him, or faking getting a life-debt to him, or forging a fake marriage contract to make him spend time with us."
"All of which were bad ideas."
"But I've been overlooking the simplest solution. I could just befriend them the same way I befriended you. That technique does have a one hundred percent success rate, after all."
"Tracey, you did it one time."
"And it worked. Therefore, one hundred percent success rate."
"I hope you do befriend them, if only because you'll be someone else's problem for once."
"You can even offer to teach them pureblood etiquette and all that other crap your parents made you learn."
"Do I get a say in the offer of my services?"
"Well, you could say no, but if I fail to befriend them, then you'll have to put up with me. By yourself. For seven whole years."
Daphne sighed. "Pureblood etiquette training it is, then."
With their homework long since completed, Harry and Hermione had begun spending their time in the library reading books on their favourite subjects. Harry was reading a book focused on unconventional applications of magic in combat, while Hermione was reading up on advanced principles of transfiguration
He did realise that in continuing to study what were already their best subjects, they weren't really improving their weaknesses, but he really couldn't bring himself to care. Combat magic was just so interesting, and it held a practical aspect that was fascinating to him. This book in particular held his interest because it demonstrated the usefulness of thinking outside the box. Combining a water conjuration with a freezing charm was obvious, but water conjuration with a flame spell to create a wall of steam? Or using the water as a conductor for a lightning spell so it would be able to bypass shields? All of the feats he'd found so far were way above his skill level, but the sorts of strategies used had an ingenuity that Harry was determined to cultivate for himself. There was no telling when he'd need to defend himself against an opponent. He was still only eleven, and if someone was after him, odds are that they would be stronger and faster. That meant his best advantage was learning how to be smart.
His stomach took that moment to growl, and the hunger he'd been pushing out of his mind came back with a vengeance.
Well, there went any chance of further reading being done.
"Hey, Hermione." He called out.
"Hmm." She hummed, eyes not leaving her book
"I'm getting hungry. Let's head back to the common room."
"Hmmm…" She mumbled.
Of course she lost herself in her book so badly that she couldn't hear him. She did this all the time. Harry briefly considered making a comment about burning books to snap her out of her daze, but that seemed rude, and far too likely to result in bodily harm if it actually managed to get her attention. She could be so far absorbed in her book that she wouldn't even process his words.
So Harry simply held a piece of parchment in front of the page she was reading.
Not every solution to a problem had to be complicated, after all.
"What? Hey! Harry! What gives?"
"It's getting late, and we haven't eaten since lunch. Much as I'm sure it pains you, we should leave the library. You can continue memorising the entire thing later."
"Well, I probably could have gone for a few more hours if you hadn't distracted me. But fine, I suppose continuing on an empty stomach could compromise my memory."
"God forbid."
"Yes, yes, now let's go. I can read on an empty stomach, but I'd rather not listen to your sarcasm on one."
It was odd, being in the corridors with no one around. Harry had long since gotten used to the sight of the school's halls, in both their bright and busy daytime hours as well as their dark and empty nighttime hours. This was an odd mix, with the halls being well-lit by the still-burning torches, but empty of all the students who were no doubt at the feast. It was such a difference that Harry didn't notice anything was off until the smell hit him.
"Ugh! What the hell!"
"Language!" Hermione coughed.
A large grunt in a hall to their side was the second indicator that something was wrong. A massive, lumpy, grey, and hideous humanoid stood stupidly in the hall before it roared.
"A mountain troll! Why is there-" Hermione started to say as the troll swung its club.
Harry's wand was in his hand before he knew it and the words left his lips before he fully understood what was happening.
"Flipendo!"
The vibrant orange light of the knockback jinx flew through the air and knocked the troll's club into its torso.
"Run!" He yelled at Hermione.
Hermione thankfully didn't need to be told twice and was in motion quickly.
"What's the fastest way to the common room?"
"No time!" She yelled back. "This way!"
"Wait, why?" Harry looked down their current hall and saw an endless distance with doors and torches every ten metres.
"Why are we in the endless corridor?"
"There's an easy escape! Now be quiet and let me count the doors!"
Harry really hoped she didn't plan on using that twenty-sixth floor route. He didn't think he had the stamina to run for… however long she had said it had taken.
Thankfully, Hermione stopped after a minute of running and spun around.
"Distract it for a minute!"
"What? Why?" he tried to ask before a roar from the troll pulled him back into combat mode.
"Flipendo! Fumos! Incendio!" The spells flew from his wand as reflex took over.
Hermione really hoped she didn't go too far down the hallway. Harry's questions had pulled her from her thoughts for a second, and if she had undercounted, then the door she needed was probably behind the troll.
Hermione opened what she hoped was the right door, and found…
A classroom in which all of the furniture was made of glass.
Useless. And also dangerous. Apparently the castle hadn't heard of OSHA standards. Hermione tried the next door down. It had a solid stone wall behind it. If there was a secret passage, she didn't have time to figure it out.
Crap, had she really passed it?
She tried the next door down, and…
Oh, thank Merlin, that was it.
Dodge, duck, roll, cast, cast, cast.
Whatever a troll's skin was made of, it absorbed most spells. As such, Harry found himself limited to indirect damage and distractions. The smokescreen charm was giving him cover, and it was easy to levitate and knockback pieces of rubble into the troll's body. God knows the troll was leaving enough of them lying around.
"Harry! Through here! Now!"
Hermione's voice pierced through the instinctual fog on his mind, and with one final spell volley for good measure, he chased after her. He ran through the door, and found himself…
Coming out of the first door in the endless corridor.
"Why doesn't this place make sense!" He exclaimed.
"Quiet!" Hermione hissed as she gestured to the smoke cloud some thirty doors down the corridor. "The troll is still in down there! Now let's get back to the common room before it realises it's been duped!"
As they began walking, Harry felt himself losing energy as he came down from his adrenaline high.
"We're lucky to be alive, aren't we?"
"Yes, we are." She responded tersely. "Honestly, how does a troll even get into a school? Aren't there supposed to be wards to stop that from happening?"
"Um… I guess?"
Hermione shook her head. "You really should read Hogwarts: A History. It's very educational."
Harry waved his hand dismissively. "Sure, get it for me for Christmas or whatever. I still need to find a book you haven't read for your gift."
Hermione gave a faux-indignant huff as they neared the common room. To his surprise, everyone was already inside, and there were several tables of what looked like food from the feast around the room.
"Um… Did we miss something? Why is the feast being served as a buffet in the common room?"
"Yeah." One of the prefects replied. "There's a damn troll loose in the school. Quirrell came into the great hall shouting about it, so Dumbledore sent everyone back to their common rooms. The elves must have brought the food back so no one would starve. Where the hell were you two?"
"Trying to escape the mountain troll, mainly."
The prefect stared at him in disbelief. "You're kidding me."
Harry shrugged. "I don't care if you believe me, but neither of us have eaten yet, and I had to engage the troll in frontal combat for a few minutes while Hermione found us a way out."
"I did not take several minutes!" Hermione protested.
"Adrenaline does weird things to your sense of time, 'Mione."
Hermione gave him a glare. "Call me that again and you'll be my target for practicing stinging hexes. Now come on, let's eat before the food is gone."
On the far side of the common room, Tracey was giddy with excitement.
"See, Daphne! I told you they were special."
And thus, Daphne realised that she was doomed to never have a normal life, or even a semblance thereof.
A/N: The endless corridor is much like any infinite stream of truly random information, in that you can get basically anything you want if you know exactly where on the stream to look. It's like the room of requirement, except infinitely less practical.
The staff meeting scene was unplanned, but I saw a review that mentioned staff meetings and thought it would make some fun filler.
The "Dark Mistress of Knowledge" scene was also unplanned, but, well, lots of people wanted to see Parvati, and once I got the idea for the scene, I couldn't not write it. Lisa Turpin really has unknowingly created a monster. A monster fulfilling an eleven-year-old's ideas of what a dark mistress should look and act like. Her throne is literally just a chair with a sticking charm to keep it on top of a desk.
This is actually the longest chapter yet, at 4.3k words minus my little ramblings down here. I'll see if I can keep that up in the future.