Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I also do not agree with the author's transphobic views.


Chapter 8

On Halloween morning, the students wake up to the smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the halls, even reaching the Slytherin dorms in the dungeons. When she ventures out into the Great Hall for breakfast, she discovers that it is decorated for the occasion. Paper bats with little witches hats fly around.

In Charms class, Professor Flitwick tells them they are ready to learn a spell that is related to the one he used to animate the bats. "Complex charms all have simple spells at their root!" he says cheerily.

After making Neville's toad zoom around the room, he puts them into pairs to practice the levitation charm. Neville has the misfortune of being paired with Malfoy. Harry is paired with a fellow Gryffindor named Seamus, and Hermione is paired with Ron.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaks Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick."

Despite the fact they've been practicing the incantation and arm movement alone, Ron waves his arm like a windmill. She wants to think he's just over-excited, but from what she's seen of him so far, she thinks he might just be a bit of an idiot.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" he shouts in frustration.

"You're saying it wrong," Hermione informs him. "It's Wing-gar -dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."

Ron doesn't appreciate the help. "You do it then, if you're so clever," he snarls.

She rolls up her sleeves and flicks her wand. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The feather rises off the desk and hovers about four feet above their heads.

"Oh, well done!" says Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"

She beams, but her cheer at the praise doesn't last long. She is filing out of class with the rest of the students, Harry and Ron ahead of her, when she hears Ron say, "It's no wonder her entire House hates her. It's not blood prejudice, she's just a nightmare, honestly."

"I know," Harry says, and suddenly she can't stop the tears from spilling down her cheeks.

She doesn't know anything else as she runs to the bathroom and locks herself in a stall.

Ron's words bother her a bit, but what really upsets her is Harry's agreement. She'd thought he was nice. She'd thought maybe they could be friends.

"She's a nightmare, honestly."

"I know."

And just like that, she is back in the first grade, with the kids making fun of her bushy hair and buck teeth and funny name, and it hurts just the same as it did that first time it happened.

She isn't sure how long she stays there, but the next thing she knows, it's dark outside. She splashes cool water on her face and looks at herself in the mirror.

"You're tougher than this," she whispers to her reflection. "You don't need anyone, anyway."

It's then that she registers the smell. It's like old socks and a public toilet that nobody seems to clean. At first, she thinks she's imagining it. But then she hears the lumbering of something big. She frowns, drying her hands and face on a towel before looking around the corner. And she sees the troll.

Twelve feet tall, its skin is a dull, granite grey, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It has short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet, and it holds a huge wooden club, which drags along the floor because its arms are so long. It's even uglier than the illustration in her book on magical creatures, and it smells worse than anything the book could describe.

For a moment, she's paralyzed. And then she screams.

Unfortunately, this seems to catch the troll's interest. It stops for a moment before it begins to advance, big beady eyes now focused on her. It unintentionally rips sinks from the walls as it approaches.

To her shock, Harry and Ron appear in the doorway, just visible behind and between the Troll's legs. They look as panicked as she feels.

The troll is right in front of her now, and later she will hate herself to remember it, but she closes her eyes. She knows she's not fearless, but she likes to thinks she does all right in the face of fear, keeps her head on and stays calm, eyes wide open. But she is more afraid that she has ever felt in her life, even more than that time her father came at her with a knife, claiming she needed to bleed as penance for her accidental magic. She realizes that she is small and powerless in the face of the troll; so, she closes her eyes and waits for the end.

There's a clunk. Then, "Oy, peabrain!"

She opens her eyes again to see that the troll has turned to look at the boys instead. She opens her mouth to yell something, anything, as it starts towards Ron, but nothing comes out, and Harry is beside her, shouting, "Come on, run, run!"

But she can't run, can't get the wire between her brain and her legs to connect. She might as well have no legs, for all she can feel or move them.

All the shouting seems to upset the troll, because it speeds up on its quest to reach Ron.

Then, Harry does something both very brave and very stupid. He takes a running leap and lands on the trolls back, arms wrapping around its neck as he holds on for dear life. The troll howls in pain, and over the chaos, Hermione hears Ron yell, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The troll's club suddenly rises out of its hand, hovers in the air for a minute, and then drops, with a sickening crack, onto its owner's head. The troll sways for a moment and then falls flat on its face, making a thud so thunderous the whole room shakes.

Harry gets to his feet, shaking and out of breath. Ron simply stands there staring with his mouth open at what he's just managed to do.

Hermione speaks first.

"Is it dead?"

"I don't think so," Harry pants. "I think it's just knocked out."

He bends over and pulls his wand out of one of the troll's nostrils. She makes a face as she sees that it is covered in greyish goop.

"Ugh, troll bogies," he says, and wipes it on the troll's trousers.

A loud slamming and the sound of hurried footsteps makes the three of them look up. Of course someone was coming, they'd made enough noise to wake the whole of Scottland.

A moment later, Professor McGonagall burst into the room, closely followed by Professor Snape, and then Professor Quirrell. Professor Quirrell took one look at the troll, then sat heavily onto one of the toilets that was still standing, whimpering and clutching at his heart.

Professor Snape bends over the troll. Professor McGonagall looks at Harry and Ron, and Hermione wants to shrink back from the look on the witch's face.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" says the professor, with cold fury in her voice. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

Professor Snape straightens and gives Hermione a look even fiercer than Professor McGonagall's. "I'm wondering the same thing, Miss Granger," he drawls.

"Please, Professors," Hermione says, finding her voice before the boys can say anything. "I went looking for the troll because I- I thought I could deal with it on my own, you know because I've read all about them."

Ron's wand clatters to the floor. She wants to roll her eyes at his obvious shock. They did just save her from a troll, the least she can do is try to get them out of trouble for it. Even if she wouldn't have been there if they hadn't been mean to her in the first place.

"If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived."

Harry nods hastily, and Ron schools his expression into something quasi-sincere.

"Well, in that case…" says Professor McGonagall, staring at the three of them. "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?"

Hermione hung her head.

"Yes," said Snape. "I believe you and I ought to have a little chat. With me. Now."

She follows Snape out and back to his office in silence.

The moment the door closes, Snape erupts.

"What the hell do you think you were doing? And don't feed me that 'I thought I could handle the troll myself' line, because I know that's not true, or not the whole story at least."

She shrinks into her chair. "I didn't go after it," she admits quietly, "I just said that to get the boys out of trouble with Professor McGonagall."

"Ten points from Slytherin for lying to a professor," Professor Snape says immediately, and then narrows his eyes. "Then what did happen? And if you try to lie to me, Miss Granger, I promise you won't like the consequences."

Maybe it's the stress, maybe she's just tired, but her eyes well up again. She flaps her hands a few times in distress. "I was hiding in the bathroom," she says, hating how her voice is two octaves higher than usual.

"Why?"

"Ron said something mean about me after Charms, and all Harry did was agree with him." She sniffles. "I was just trying to help him!"

The professor pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingers like he's coming down with a headache. "What were you trying to help him with?"

"The Levitation Charm," she says.

"I see," says Professor Snape. "Didn't I tell you to stop being such an insufferable know-it-all?"

"I can't help it that I'm better at magic than he is." She hurries on before the professor can open his mouth. "I don't mean that as a brag, it's just a fact. He was getting so frustrated, and Professor Flitwick was busy helping someone else. So I told him he was doing it wrong."

"Bossiness won't win you friends, Miss Granger."

She's silent for a moment, sniffing back the last of her tears. Then she says, "Sometimes I can't help it."

Professor Snape gives her no sympathy. "I'd advise you to try," he says dryly.

"Yes, sir," she says. "I'm sorry, sir."

"Just be grateful you weren't hurt," he growls. "Now go to your common room."

She sleeps like a log that night, and the next morning, she finds Harry and Ron waiting for her at the entrance to the Great Hall. She stops and stands in awkward silence with them. Then, at the same time, they all say, "Thanks." They look up at each other in surprise.

"Do you want to eat with us?" Harry asks tentatively.

She studies his face, looking for any signs of trickery. She's willing to forgive, but she's not quite willing to forget.

"Only if you want," Harry says, giving her a half smile.

She thinks for another moment and then says, "Okay."

She supposes there are some things you can't go through without ending up liking each other, like knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll.


AN: Don't worry, Harry's "I know" isn't agreement with Ron, it's simply placation. Poor Hermione doesn't know that. But Harry will be on her side yet...