Rose

I'm hardly paying attention to the Sorting Ceremony. It's the same thing every year, a bunch of first years are sorted and I'm left to be alone. Except this year, I will actually have at least one friend. I smile, glancing over at Oliver, when "Potter, Harry," is called to be sorted and my heart skips a beat, my eyes snapping to the young boy who's sitting on the stool, the Sorting Hat falling over his eyes.

Of course I know his name. Even being muggle-born, the second I got my Hogwarts letter, I learned about him and his defeat of You-Know-Who. Murmurs spread throughout the Great Hall, but I feel something different. This is not a "there's a celebrity in our midst" feeling, although that's there… My heart pounds, almost as if it's trying to tell me that I know him.

That's crazy, Rose. I admonish myself. You can't know him. You're a muggle-born and only ever heard of him when you joined the Wizarding World. Surely it's just excitement.

I can't dwell on it too long before the Sorting Hat calls out, "GRYFFINDOR!" and Harry goes to sit near Oliver. He's staring at me, a concerned look on his face, so I wave, trying to smile. The rest of the sorting ceremony and dinner pass in a blur, and I barely register anything else that night.

I wake up the next morning to green light filtering through the curtains and groan. Another long year of no friends… Well, maybe. I smile, thinking of Oliver and how he was so quick to not only comfort me, but make me laugh and distract me. I stretch out in my bed, sighing and swing my legs out to get dressed. My roommates have already left for the day, which is fine with me. I try to avoid them as much as possible anyway.

I shiver. Even though it's still warm outside, being down under the lake is chilly regardless of the time of year. However, the common rooms are gorgeous. I don't have to love being at Hogwarts to recognize that. The bed frames are ornate, engraved silver with 4 posts and a gauzy green curtain that shimmer in the right light. Even though it's cold, the house elves make sure the fires are well tended and provide as many blankets as we want, which is great. I hate sleeping in a hot room, but sleeping under a pile of blankets in a cold room is always sure to provide the best sleep.

I grab my clothes and put them under my blankets to warm them up for a few minutes while I look around the dormitory. My roommates pushed all their beds together on the separate wall. They must have done that last night. I roll my eyes, then roll out of bed and get dressed as quickly as possible.

After getting dressed, I walk out of my dormitory and wave to the mermaids swimming by the window. They wave back, and I head out to the Great Hall for breakfast and my class schedule. When I get to the base of the grand staircase, I'm surprised to see Oliver waiting for me.

"Oliver," I say, confused. "What are you doing here?"

He smiles. "I didn't want you to have to walk into the Great Hall alone. I will be here every morning so that you can walk into breakfast with a friend."

My face heats up and I duck my head, smiling bashfully. "That's really sweet of you, thank you." I want to tell him he doesn't have to do that, but I can't muster up the words. Three years of being alone at school has made me desperate for any type of friend.

Oliver smiles and offers me his arm. I take it, giggling, and we walk into the Great Hall together. We go our separate ways shortly after linking arms, but for the first time, I don't feel so alone.

I glance over my class schedule. Seems fairly normal for fourth years, although I signed up for Muggle Studies as an easy O. Plus, it would be interesting to see how the Wizarding World views Muggles.

The first couple months of the term pass without any hitches. Other than the fact that Oliver and I walk into the Great Hall every morning together, the year seems like normal. Mostly lonely, but I do have some more friends. Thanks to Oliver. In our free times, I spend the time with Oliver and his friend group. Every time we cross paths with Harry, though, something strange happens. I always feel this weird, protective instinct to him, even if he's not in any danger. It's something as simple as telling him to behave, but I manage to shake it off each time.

Oliver and I grow closer each day, with him wanting to spend more time with me. We spend good amounts of time in the library with each other, helping each other with different studies. I help him with Potions and Muggle Studies, and he helps me with Astrology. Snape loves all Slytherins but I seem to be his favorite- even without my natural knack to getting them right.

The more time I spend with Oliver, the happier I am. But I'm terrified, too. I am starting to fall for him, but I don't know if he feels the same way. We spend entire Saturdays in the library, not only studying, but laughing and teasing. I can't tell him the way I feel though. What if I do and he doesn't feel the same way? I lose all of my friends and go back to being a nobody. This is the first time that I have ever enjoyed being at school, and it's all because of Oliver. I won't say anything to him, until he does. Even though I want him to know how I feel.

There are moments, though, that I feel like he returns the sentiments. A subtle brush of his hand against mine. A glance shared… It would be so easy to tell him how I feel, but I can't.

Before I know it, it's Halloween. I run to the bathroom before dinner, trying to be quick as I know Oliver is waiting for me, and am surprised to hear someone crying. I follow the sound and knock on the stall door.

"Are you okay in there? Do you need to talk?" I ask, and the sniffling pauses.

"Um… thank you, but no. I'm okay," the voice calls back. The voice sounds vaguely familiar, but I can't place it.

"What's your name?" I ask.

"Granger. Hermione Granger," she calls back and I curse slightly under my breath. She's a first year in Gryffindor. And not just any first year, but the bossy, bushy-haired girl from the train. I fume slightly, wanting to curse anyone who would bully this young girl who I assume only wanted to help and make friends.

"Do you need a tissue?" I ask as I conjure one with my wand. Hermione is silent for a minute, then unlocks the stall door and it swings open to show her tear-stained face. She smiles sadly and holds her hand out for the tissue.

"Please, and thank you," she states. I step forward, offering not only the tissue but also a hug when the bathroom door creaks open and a horrible smell wafts in, like 3 garbage dumps all piled into one, nasty, 20-foot tall pillar. My eyes go wide as I turn around to see what I fear it would be… and I was right. A troll has walked into the girl's bathroom.

I gasp, reaching for my wand, but before I can cast a spell, Hermione screams, which is enough to divert my attention away from the spell casting. I turn around, but the last thing I see before everything goes dark is the troll's ugly face and its club.