Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
October 31st
As October progressed so did our transfiguration project. With the progress came the most crucial part of our project; the reversal spell. This spell, which Fred discovered after borrowing a sixth-year Gryffindor's transfiguration textbook, could be used by multiple people at once to force an animagus into his or her human form. The only problem was that it was a non-verbal spell. Non-verbal casting isn't something we'd learn unless we take DADA as sixth years during our NEWT years. But now, in order to rid ourselves of Pettigrew without condemning Sirius Black, we would have to learn it independently as third-years. A daunting task to be sure. But we could see no way around it other than telling an adult that our little brother's pet rat was actually a murderer. We figured no one would believe us or they'd ask us too many questions that we couldn't answer. So, with Lee along for the ride, we had taken to spending every evening in an empty classroom trying to cast the reversal spell on captured insects. Of course, the insects we are practicing on are actual insects so the spell wouldn't work if we cast it correctly. But it wasn't like we would be able to find an animagus to practice on. We decided that if we managed to create a blue light around our target then we were doing it right. Besides, if we fail to do it right in class, maybe we can convince McGonagall to perform it to show us how it is done. The point to all of this is that there are options.
In the days that followed, transfiguration and Pettigrew weren't our only focus. Fred, George, and I spent a fair amount of our free time discussing Pucey. Or rather, we theorized about him. What were the mistakes he was talking about? The only thing I could remember about the Regulus Black from the books was that he betrayed the dark lord after he learned about Horcruxes. But what was it about the Horcruxes that made Regulus change his mind? Or is it another reason entirely? Fred and George also had a scary theory that I hadn't even considered. What if Regulus had been capable of legilimency? Then it could have been him who broke into my mind during the first day of class in an attempt to verify if I had a past life or not. Maybe you-know-who hadn't tried to invade any of our minds at all. We had too many questions but not enough information. The only way to learn more would be if we confronted Pucey. But Fred and George were adamant that we keep our distance from the Slytherin. I, however, wasn't so sure. What if the mistakes Pucey wanted to avoid repeating were going down the dark lord's path? What if, somehow, being reborn as Pucey had reformed Regulus Black's ideals? Lord, I hate what-if questions. They're just so inefficient. Too much is dependent on imagination, and fact tends to be discarded. But when you lack facts, what-if questions tend to be the only type of questions you can ask. The biggest of all, however, was one that I kept coming back to whenever there was a quiet moment. One that kept me up at night, and made me doubt myself. Why did Pucey tell me his secret? What could he possibly gain by telling me such a thing? It just seemed like such a big risk to take. It was one thing when my family figured out about Jessie. But Jessie was never a dark witch, and my family would never have rejected me. Pucey had admitted that in his past life he was a former death eater. What had he hoped the end result would be? And of course, as Fred and George had pointed out, there was also the chance that Pucey wasn't Regulus Black at all. That he had figured out that I had a past life and made up some story to get something from me. But I don't buy that one. I don't know why. It's just, Pucey has never pegged me to be a liar.
Potions class has grown to be increasingly uncomfortable. Pucey and I are always under the watchful eyes of Fred and George as we crush roots to a fine powder, slice rat spleens, or simmer draughts at low heat. Conversations between Pucey and I have been oscillating from being one-sided to semi-hostile. He still refers to me as Weasley. I've taken to calling him Reggie when no one can hear us. And every time I do, he demands that I stop by saying, "Don't call me that!" Mostly, Pucey just asks if we can talk. I respond by asking him to pass the standard ingredient, or if I should stir our potion counterclockwise or clockwise. My heart grows heavy every time I answer in this way. I want to talk to him. I want to learn more about him and his past life as Regulus Black. But what if the worst of everything we theorized was true? I've done it again. I've asked a what-if question. A complete waste of energy.
Arithmancy class, however, is another matter entirely. Thursday, right before lunch, I sit in Professor Vector's classroom. I always choose the seat closest to the window. Vector's classroom is on the 7th floor, and I enjoy looking out the window at the sky when the lecture gets slow. The only problem, Pucey always chooses the seat next to mine.
"Weasley" Pucey greeted as he let his book bag drop to the stone floor before sliding into the desk adjacent to my own.
"Reggie" I returned in kind.
Immediately, Pucey's head snaps in my direction. "Don't call me that!" He exclaimed in a harsh whisper.
I look away from the window in time to watch the third-year Slytherin calm himself. In his seat, he runs a hand back and forth through his trim haircut and breathes deeply through his nose. After a moment he regained himself. Turning his head towards me, Pucey said, "Please don't call me that. You know who I am".
Brown eyes meet grey ones. I wish so badly that we could go back to a time before Hogsmeade when all Pucey was, was the cute Slytherin boy who was easy to talk to. But that wouldn't solve anything. "I thought I knew who you were", I said.
Pucey rolls his eyes. "I am Adrian Pucey," he said steadfastly. "Does having a past life prevent you from being Holly Weasley?"
Okay, that's a point for Pucey. "I thought you were my friend". I responded when I couldn't argue his line of logic. I am Holly Weasley. But I was also Jessie. If I can be two people, so can Pucey. But in his case, I am not sure if that is a good thing.
Pucey's grey eyes soften, and the terseness of his face slackens. "I am your friend". He said with sincerity. Such sincerity that my toes curled and, for a moment, the world seemed to pause. "Weasley '', He went on to say. "Nothing has changed. Nothing has to change. The only difference is that now you know a bit more about me".
Usually, Pucey's face is impassive; impossible to read. Right now, however; all I see is a tightly held jaw. As if he is fearing rejection. His lips are pressed together in a straight line and his eyebrows are slightly turned inward, expressing earnest intentions. And his eyes. His eyes bore into mine. Begging and asking for understanding. "Why tell me?" I asked without really meaning to. "Why tell me something so private?"
Before Pucey has the chance to answer, Professor Vector strolls to the front of the classroom and claps her hands to bring everyone to order. "Alright boys and girls," she said as she started to write on the blackboard. "Let's continue our lecture on the magical properties of the number seven".
While we had been talking, the rest of our classmates had filed in with us caught unaware. At the sound of Vector's voices, both Pucey and I ducked down so we could pull parchment, quills, and ink from our respective bags. This meant that our heads were bent close together. "Weasley, let's talk". Pucey whispered. "Please, let's talk after class". But I don't promise anything.
This Thursday, Fred, George, and I have more on our plate than just plotting the demise of Wormtail and thinking about the enigma that is Adrian Pucey. Because today is Halloween. Which means that at some point tonight there is going to be a troll loose in the castle. "Do we do nothing again?" I asked as the three of us lounged around the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. George sits in one of the armchairs, his left side nearest to the fire. He's reclined and sprawled out in the chair as if he had just run a marathon. Apparently, a niffler in Care of Magical Creatures class had given him a run for his money. Meanwhile, Fred and I lay on the floor perpendicular to each other. I lay with my bare feet pointed towards the fire and my head resting on Fred's stomach as if it were a pillow. I had kicked my shoes and stockings off not long after the three of us had sat down. There was just something about having your toes warmed by a fire that's just too enjoyable to pass up. But Percy didn't agree. I could tell because whenever he would walk past the three of us, he'd shoot our informal lounging a scandalized look. But he doesn't say anything. Lying on the floor and taking your shoes off really isn't against any of the rules. And it's Halloween. We are allowed to let our hair down on holidays. In an absent-minded way, Fred's been playing with my hair since we've adopted this position. I only hope that he doesn't cause it to knot. But after my question, he stopped.
"No!" Both boys said at the same time in incredulous voices.
I squint my eyes. "No?"
"Merlin, Holly", George said, making it sound like I had said something completely heartless.
"That's our baby brother we're talking about". Fred added.
"We're not going to let him face a troll," George said in a lower voice so that the other Gryffindors wouldn't overhear. "Especially not when he only knows one or two spells".
"One of those spells being Lumos". Fred went on to say. "Ickle Ronniekins could actually get hurt".
I don't get it. They were all gung-ho about letting Ron fight his own battles when the first encounter with Fluffy occurred. Why would a troll be any different? "You two didn't want to interfere the last time," I said, trying to defend myself.
"Holls," George said sharply as if I was missing a major point. George sits up and holds his two hands palms down and parallel to each other, and in a way that I can see them from my spot on the floor. "Three-headed dog," George said, lowering his left hand below his right hand. "Troll," he said, raising his right hand even higher. "Three-headed dog," he said again. "Troll" He emphasized.
But is Fluffy really any less dangerous than a troll? I feel like either one could kill a first-year easily. I scoff and look away from George as I roll my eyes. But I don't comment. It's not like I want to do nothing. "So, what should we do then?"
Fred lightly tugs on my hair. I turn my head in his general direction. But since I am lying on top of him, I can't really look at his face. "You said this Halloween is important?" Fred asked, seeking to clarify.
"Yeah," I answered, turning my head back so I was looking straight up at the ceiling. "The troll brings Harry, Ron, and Hermione together. They're supposed to become friends after this…. This event" I said, at a loss of what to actually call a troll storming the castle.
"So, we can't stop Ron and Harry from encountering the troll". George concludes.
"And we can't get Hermione out of that bathroom to avoid the troll either". I reasoned.
Fred shifts from under me. I can empathize that it is rather hard to get comfortable when there is a ten-pound head resting on your diaphragm. But like the good sister that I am, I don't move. Not even an inch. "Which means we're going to have to follow Ron and Harry," Fred decided.
We make the executive decision to head to dinner as early as possible. The Halloween feast has always been a favorite of ours. Who, other than Snape, doesn't love mounds and mounds of tooth-rotting goodness? Also, we felt it unwise to fight a mountain troll on empty stomachs. Throughout the meal, we took turns keeping an eye on Ron and Harry. Once we got the troll alert, we would have to high-tail it to keep the younger boys in our line of sight. It also didn't help that I couldn't remember which bathroom the troll ended up in. In my defense, Hogwarts has a lot of bathrooms. But Fred had the Marauder's map tucked into his robe pocket in case we lost them.
I was munching on a slice of carrot cake when we heard, "Troll in the dungeons!" A flash of purple darted down the aisle between the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables. I drop my fork at once, as Fred and George quickly swallow whatever food they had in their mouths at the time. "Troll in the dungeons!" Quirrell yelled out in his most horrified voice as he came to a halt in the middle of the aisle. The entire hall had gone silent at his announcement. Every pair of human eyes in the school were on Quirrell. "I thought you should know," he said in a quieter voice as he staggered on his feet. A second later he was falling face-first onto the floor. As the student body erupted into a roar of blood-curdling screams, I wondered what would have happened if Quirrell had fallen backward. Would you-know-who have been hurt? I bet he would be pissed at the very least.
Amongst all the panic, Dumbledore stood up and used magic to allow his voice to touch all corners of the hall. "Silence!" He roared. Once he had everyone's attention, Dumbledore gave directions in a much too calm of a voice. "Prefects will lead their houses to their dormitories. Teachers will follow me to the dungeons". At once, everyone started to move. Fred grabbed my hand, and I grabbed George's. It wouldn't do for any of us to be separated. At the same moment, Lee finds us in the crowd, and we all head for the exit together. As we cleared out of the great hall with the rest of our house, I vaguely wondered what Slytherin house was going to do. I mean, their dorms are in the dungeons. But it doesn't matter. Thanks to Jessie, I know everyone will be fine. Or at least, they should be. Us triplets wait for Ron and Harry to make the realization that Hermione isn't with our house. We know when they do from the moment, they split from the rest of the Gryffindor first-years at the bottom of the main staircase. Fred takes the lead, tugging us after them. "Wait!" Lee called when he realized we weren't following everyone else. "Where are you going?"
"We have to get our brother" George yelled over his shoulder, right before we disappeared down one of the first-floor corridors.
We hear the smashing of porcelain and terrified screams before we make it near the girls' bathroom. Fred, myself, and George turn a corner just in time to see the tail end of Ron's robe disappear into the bathroom. Still holding hands, the three of us hurry forward. "Hermione, move!" we hear Harry yell right before we enter the scene.
Fred releases my hand, and I do the same with George. Each of us rips out our wands from our pockets. In hindsight, that is probably something we should have done before we entered the bathroom. "Help" Hermione cried as she huddled under a sink that was still standing. "Help me!"
George steps forward first. He grabs Harry by his shoulders and hauls him back. "We'll handle it" he assured the boy-who-lived once Harry had his back pressed against the bathroom wall and he was safely behind us. George doesn't give Harry time to protest, even though the boy looks ready too. Years of being big siblings have taught us to not allow our youngers to argue.
Meanwhile, Ron hadn't noticed our arrival. He was busy picking up bits of wood from the destroyed bathroom stalls and chucking them at the troll's head. "Oy!" He yelled. Anything to get the troll away from Hermione. "Pea brain!" At the same moment that the Troll turned around, Fred lunged forward and used his whole left arm to catch Ron around his chest and drag him backward. Unceremoniously, Ron is shoved behind us, next to Harry. But he's safe. That's all any of us care about.
"Stay there" Fred barked at Ron, as I took a small step forward; wand raised.
"Hermione!" I called to the petrified girl, as the Troll took a bumbling step towards us. Hermione looks up from under the sink. Her eyes are stained red and she is clutching her hair as if it was a helmet. "We're going to have to push the troll back. But we don't know what direction that will send him". The troll takes another step. We don't have long until he is upon us. Fred and George slink up next to me; one on either of my sides. Both of their wands are raised and ready to go. "After we finish casting, run straight for us". The girl nods once; the only sign we get that she understood.
As the troll looms close enough that we can smell its breath, George suggested, "knockback jinx".
Fred and I nod. And a second later all three of us shouted "Flipendo!" And drew checkmarks in the air with our wands. Bursts of yellow lights shoot out from our wands and slam into the troll's torso. The moment Hermione saw the light, she dashed out from under the sink and made a beeline for us. Without being told, Hermione maneuvers around Fred and joins her fellow first-years.
"Are you okay?" I hear Harry ask her as the troll stumbles backward; club flailing in the air. But the beast doesn't fully lose its balance. At the last moment, before it would have toppled over, the troll finds its footing.
"What now?" Fred asked. The troll stood up to its full height. It tightened its grip on its club. While the troll's other hand curled into a giant, meaty fist. Eyes aflame in fury the troll let out a roar that shook the room. Its saliva flew out of its mouth and smacked all of us in the face. Ugh! Disgusting. But there's no time to wipe it away.
"Maybe stupefy" I offered.
"On skin that thick?" Fred countered.
"Maybe if we hit him in the eye", George said, as the Troll took a step forward, its club raised high in the air.
"We need to contain it," I said, as panic started to consume me. I was a little tempted to try to wingardium leviosa the club like how Ron had done in the books. But I am not Ron. I doubt I would have such 'sheer dumb luck'. "Make it impossible for it to move". I said out loud as I ran through every spell in my repertoire.
Fred steps forward. "I got an idea!" He yelled as the troll started to swing his club down at an alarming speed. "Ebublio!" Fred cried as he drew a big circle in the air with his wand. A blue sphere started to form in front of Fred before it fired off in the direction of the troll. The troll gave one last angry roar before he was silenced. Encased by Fred's giant bubble spell, we could no longer hear the beast. Floating a couple of feet up in the air, all the troll could do was pound on the inside of the bubble. However, nothing would burst the bubble. Not until the jinx wore off.
Unfortunately, the troll's club was not in the bubble with him. "Fred! Watch out!" George yelled soon after Fred had cast the bubble spell. My head snapped up, along with Fred's, in time to see the club cartwheeling in the air, heading straight for Fred. The stupid troll must have let go of it when it got hit with the ebublio jinx.
"Fred!" I screamed loud enough that I would probably be hoarse in the morning.
"Move, Fred! Move!" Ron yelled from somewhere behind me.
A figure pushed past me. The next split second I found myself staring at the back of a Slytherin school robe. But I wouldn't register that until later. "Accio Fred Weasley!" The new person shouted as he drew an arch in the air with a tight flick of his wrist. Moments away from being clobbered by the club, Fred is pulled backward by an invisible force. The club misses him by centimeters as it clatters on the bathroom floor, denting the tile. Fred collides with the mystery newcomer and the two of them topple to the ground with Fred on top. Silence fills the bathroom as everyone breathes and takes a moment to catch up.
"Fred!" I cried as I took a couple of steps to be in front of the pair. I dropped to my knees and reached out to pull Fred into a hug. "Are you alright?" I asked once Fred was out of the newcomer's lap. "You weren't hit?" I wrapped my arms around Fred's neck as I neared the point of hysterics. That was close. Too close.
Fred's arms slowly embraced my middle. "I'm alright, Holly," Fred promised in his most serious voice. He squeezed me as hard as he could as I started to sob into his shoulder. Too close. The one thing that I am trying to prevent just came way too close to happening. "I'm alright".
I don't get the chance to find out who Fred's savior is before the staff arrives. "Oh! Oh, my..." McGonagall exclaimed. That was how I knew she had entered the bathroom. I look up from Fred's shoulder to see her, Snape, and Quirrell all walking in and taking the scene of seven students and a troll stuck in a bubble with great surprise.
I move first, but Fred and I both pull ourselves up off the bathroom floor, breaking our hug. Though, Fred leaves one of his arms wrapped around my waist. George is standing over by the first-years. He has Ron snuggly tucked under his arm, and Hermione attached to his shirt like static cling. Harry, too, looked a bit pale. I suspect that if George had a free arm, Harry would be tucked under the other. But Ron is our brother, so he takes priority. And Hermione did almost get assaulted by a troll. So, Mr. Potter will just have to wait. In between us stands the teachers. McGonagall's shock was quickly changing into anger as she stared at us all. Quirrell looked absolutely horrified, but there was no doubt in my mind that it was all fake. While Snape just looked livid. Only then, do I notice who the newcomer is. Pucey, in all his Adrian Pucey glory, stands a little way off from Fred and me. His wand is in his right hand and he keeps glancing between Snape and me. As if he is waiting for Snape to grind him into ground beef, but he wanted to check in with me as well. Pucey saved my brother! Adrian saved Fred. "Explain yourselves immediately!" McGonagall demanded once she found her tongue.
Fred, George, and I started a triangle of looks, asking each other who wanted to face our head's fury. But Snape would rather have an explanation from a specific person. "Pucey, speak up" He ordered, voice dripping with disapproval.
At the sound of Snape's voice, Pucey straightens his back. "When we were leaving the great hall I noticed the Weasleys leaving their housemates". Pucey said. His voice was a little shaky, but he was endeavoring to keep it strong. "I heard one of them call to Jordan that they needed to get their brother, and pieced together what they were doing. I decided to go after them. Since I am friends with Ms. Weasley", Pucey nods in my direction, and the arm Fred has around my waist tightens. "And I thought I would be safer with them anyway. Since you, Professor Quirrell, Pucey paused to gesture at the DADA professor. "Said that the troll was in the dungeons. I wasn't so sure if Slytherin house should be returning to the dormitories". At this comment, Snape nods slowly. As if he approved of the reasoning. "But when I had caught up with them, they were already fighting the troll. I came in at the end. Weasley", Pucey gestured to Fred. It must be hard having so many Weasleys in one room without being on a first-name basis with any of us. "Had already cast the ebublio jinx. I had just enough time to get him out of the way of the troll's falling club. But I don't know what happened before I arrived" Pucey said, throwing the floor to us.
McGonagall turns to Fred and me with an expectant look on her face. She wants us to finish the story. But before either of us can speak up, Hermione beats us to it. "It's my fault". She said as she let go of George's shirt and stepped forward, wiping her eyes as she went. "I went looking for the troll. I thought I could handle it", she lied as she made eye contact with McGonagall. "But it would have killed me if Harry and Ron hadn't come in. And" Hermione paused to wait out a small tremor. "And it would have killed Ron and Harry if Ron's brothers and sister hadn't followed them. They made Ron and Harry stay behind them and used magic to push the troll back so that I could get out of the way. You know what happened next". Hermione said, looking guiltily down at her feet. What a little actress. A round of applause for Miss Granger!
"What an extremely foolish thing to do!" McGonagall exclaimed with the appropriate arm gestures to emphasize her point. "I expected more from you, Ms. Granger. Five points from Gryffindor for your serious lack of judgment". McGonagall moved on. "As for the rest of you. I hope you realize how fortunate you are. Not many students could take on a troll and walk away without a trip to the hospital wing. Five points will be awarded to each of you for quick thinking, and working together". McGonagall took her time to look at all of us individually before she settled on Pucey. The only one who looked out of place. "Now, return to your dormitories at once", she ordered as she started with the first-years, ushering them out of the bathroom and away from the troll. Snape follows her with a slight limp in his step as George hangs back. He falls into pace as us four third-years exit the bathroom in Snape's wake. Leaving Quirrell to deal with the entrapped troll. Which is probably a bad idea… But what can we do about it?
Once back at the base of the grand staircase in the entrance hall, Fred, George, and I turn to face Pucey before he can disappear down to the dungeons. Pucey halts once he sees that all three of us are looking for him. We wait a little bit to make sure the first-years haven't doubled back for us, and that McGonagall or Snape wasn't nearby. "Thanks," Fred said after a moment. His tone is short, and it is unclear if he means it. "But why?"
Pucey shrugs but refuses to break eye contact with us. "I meant what I said". Pucey looks squarely at me. "I want to do better. Can't you just hear me out?"
The question is directed at me, but it takes me and my fellow triplets a moment before we could answer. Fred and George look at each other, before looking at me. I crane my neck up so I can see both of them, giving them a little nod before the three of us look back at Pucey.
"Alright, Pucey", said Fred.
"You've earned it", Said George.
"We'll hear you out", I said.