Notes:

Here it is! A fresh new chapter. It came out longer than the rest, I hope you'll like it.

However, before you go straight for the meal. I'd like to give a warning that this chapter is much darker than others, by far. It has graphic depictions of violence, bullying and body injuries. I warned you.

Enjoy.

'Bloody hell! How could I be so stupid?'

I had absolutely no clue what possessed me to listen to them in the first place, but I squarely blamed the twins for this mess. "Behind that mirror on the fourth floor," they said. That was fine and dandy, except for the tiny detail that there are loads of mirrors scattered all over the place.

Feeling like a complete idiot, I thoroughly examined the first mirror I stumbled upon, a massive one at that. I sniffed all over the thing, tapping along the frame, searching for a hidden button, pressing at random spots on the wall around it, and all for naught. Were I a bit more adept at divination magic, I'd know in seconds what exactly to do to open the entrance. Assuming there was even anything to open.

With a sinking heart, I was about to give up and walk away when another mirror further down the convoluted corridors caught my eye. Naturally, I had to check it out too – who knew, maybe I had just mistaken which mirror they meant.

However, as I explored the floor further, it quickly became evident that my evening had taken a turn for the worse. This was especially true as I realized I had lost any sense of direction in this maze-like setup.

So here I was, a mere first year student, prowling around in these unfamiliar halls, no idea in the world how to get out of here or how much time I had left before curfew.

Great job, Ron. You really should've known better.

As I aimlessly wandered the fourth floor, frustration grew with every passing minute. I was fairly certain I was going in circles, and I didn't hold back colorful curses for my brothers and my own unrestrained curiosity.

"Hey there, kiddo," a voice, laced with amusement, piped out of nowhere. "What got your knickers in a twist, uh?"

Frantically looking around, I demanded, "Who– who's there?"

Sniggers echoed in response. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

The mischievous tone didn't bode well, yet I couldn't quite place it – definitely not Peeves. I silently followed the sound, which seemed to come from a small alcove at the far end of the passage. Sneaking up to it, I found no one present except for a grand griffin statue. The terrifyingly realistic form, illuminated by a dim fiery light, staring right at me, posed a very intimidating figure.

"...Mr. Griffin?" I asked tentatively.

There was a brief pause, then the same voice erupted into laughter. I spun around to see a portrait of an elderly wizard with long dark hair and a goatee. He was currently struggling to regain his composure, propped up against the wall as if he might collapse from the laughing fit. I could feel my face burn with embarrassment.

"Hah-hah, kid, you're something else." he managed to say between chuckles, wiping away a tear. He took a deep breath to rein in his amusement, but his smile still stretched uncontrollably. "Mr. Griffin," he giggled, making me scowl. "No, I'm afraid the statue doesn't talk. Quite a pity, really. Doesn't happen often that you find decent folks to talk around in here."

I blinked.

"So what got you so worked up, little guy?" Voice inquisitive, he fixed his gaze on me with wide, curious eyes, as if expecting the start of an epic adventure tale.

I cleared my throat and scratched the back of my head, unsure how to respond. "Uhm, well…" I hesitated. "I got lost. My brothers mentioned a hidden passage on this floor, so I thought I'd check it out," I explained with a casual shrug.

His cheerful demeanor suddenly vanished, as if someone had flipped a switch. "And why would such a whiny prat like you be after secret passages!? To sneak around the castle at night, perhaps? Think rules don't apply to you?" His stinging words hit me like a slap.

I gaped at him. "What? No! I just wanted to know."

"'Just wanted to know'," he mocked me in a high pitch. "I know your sort." He shot me a heated glare. "You won't fool me, boy – I can spot a troublemaker from a mile away."

'What's going on!? It's like he's a completely different person.'

"Gotcha!" he bursted into laughter again, leaving me further perplexed. "Don't mind him. See what I mean? Poor, poor conversationalist, that one is. He's been picked on a lot as a child," he added, rolling his eyes.

Once again, his expression twisted, contorting into an ugly, angry face. "Quiet! Why did you tell him that?!" and just as quickly returned to the air of nonchalance. "Anyway–"

The shifts in the mood were making my head spin.

"Do you have like… double personality?" I blurted out, cutting through an odd comment about his mother and a goose.

"Nope!" he beamed at me. "Of course not, you imbecile!" another he barked.

His demeanor shifted again, this time into a nervous fidget: posture slouched, eyes lowered down. "N-no, um– w-we have… triple," the man mumbled while twiddling his thumbs.

"Right," I nodded slowly, as if that made perfect sense to me, while watching this now meek and timid version of him who seemed like he'd rather hide under a table. "Who are you, again?"

He dramatically gasped in feign shock and performed an extravagant bow, "Edward Rabnott, at your service, m'lord."

"Ron," I responded in a dry tone, long used to eccentric behavior.

"So, Ronnie boy," he ignored my cry of indignation, "you were looking for a secret passage and ended up lost?"

"Yeah, apparently it's supposed to be hidden 'behind a mirror'," I said with a touch of bitterness. "Who knew there were a thousand mirrors in this place? I swear I'll wring Fred and George's necks when I see them next."

He furrowed his brow. "And they are?.."

"Oh, just my elder brothers," I waved it off. "The worst pranksters in the entire school. How Hogwarts is still standing after two years with the twins, I have no idea."

Edward's eyes sparkled in recognition, but before he could say any more, his expression twisted into anger once again.

"I knew it! I knew it!" he practically shouted in near hysterics. "I told you, he's lying! He's with those delinquents, those demented lunatics who laugh at others' misery. Good-for-nothing clowns, that's what they are. The most disrespectful, brainless duo to ever set foot–"

"Oi! Shout your mouth!" I cut in sharply, my voice crackling in fury. The outburst caught me off guard as much as him, but I wasn't about to let him trash-talk my brothers.

"You don't know anything about them!" I retorted in a heated voice. "Fred and George might pull a bad joke or two, but they'd do anything for their family and their friends. Just because they have a sense of humor, doesn't make them insane! Speaking of which, you're a long forgotten painting who lost his marbles centuries ago, and you're preaching something about sanity?"

"Friends and family, huh?" he huffed with an odd expression on his face.

My anger was subsiding, but I still had enough left for a final blow. Taking a deep breath, I spoke with tension in my voice. "It might be a strange concept for you, but family stands up for each other," I shook my head, as if dismissing him as a lost case. "Say another word against them, and you'll regret it, I promise."

For a long, unsettling moment, Edward locked eyes with me, his face blank. Just as I started to feel uneasy under his scrutiny, he did something entirely unexpected – he started laughing. It was a genuine, hearty laugh that reverberated through the frame of the portrait.

"Ha! I like you, kid," he declared, wiping a fake tear from his eye. "You've got spunk. Not many can shut him down that quickly. The Weasley spirit, huh?"

I scowled, unsure if he was mocking me or not. Meanwhile, he regarded me with a faint smile, his eyes devoid of mischief, almost wistful.

"You know what, I'll tell you something," he leaned in, his voice now hushed and conspiratorial, "I don't know about a mirror, but there's a passage hidden right behind us. The password is 'Aurelia Moonshade is the best'."

"Are you serious?" my eyes narrowed in suspicion, "It's a trick, right? I'm not falling for it."

"No, no, no. It's for real. Come on, give it a shot."

I sighed and was about to do just that, but at the last moment my curiosity got the better of me (again), so I asked instead, "Who is this Aurelia Moonshade?"

He gasped absolutely horrified as if someone just banned Quidditch. "How on earth you don't know TheLunar Songstress herself!? Who is Aurelia Moonshade? Nobody important, just the most talented singer in the entire world! Oh, sweet dear Aurelia… the best thing that ever happened to me. She was more than just a performer on stage; she breathed music, and music breathed her. The way she smiled, as if she was singing just for me. "

His personality switched from the lovesick puppy to the jackass mode.

"And how would you know how she was on stage, if you slept through every one of her concerts?" he taunted with a smug smirk.

I wasn't aware that paintings could blush, but this one certainly did.

"Wasn't my fault she was so hypnotizing, was it? You were not better yourself!"

His smirk stretched wider. "I beg to differ. I was definitely better–"

"Alright, forget I asked," I cut in before they plunged into any gross details. "Aurelia Moonshade is the best," I said with a straight face.

With a final wink and a sassy "Yes, she is" from Edward, the portrait frame slid open.

An awkward "thanks" slipped from my lips, as I hastily entered the revealed doorway. As soon as I passed the threshold, the entrance sealed shut behind my back, leaving me engulfed in darkness.

My heart racing within my chest, I lit up my wand with Lumos and headed down the dusty passage. The stale air was thick with an old, musty scent, filling my lungs with each inhale. While I struggled to keep my focus on maintaining the light spell, the conversation with the crazy painting still lingered in my mind. What I could tell with absolute certainty was that the twins were not going to hear about it, ever.

Navigating through several turns and descents, I eventually found myself facing a dead end.

After a few minutes of thorough exploration, I discovered a small section of the wall protruding ever so slightly. With a gentle push, the stone shifted, revealing an opening for me to pass through. As I stepped through, I immediately recognized my surroundings – a second-floor corridor not far from the Grand Staircase.

'Finally! Now I know where I am!'

Casting a glance back, I noticed that the passageway had vanished entirely as if it never existed, leaving behind a plain wall of solid stone.

Feeling somewhat uplifted, I set off towards the common room by a familiar route. I had certainly had enough excitement for one day. I was exhausted, my sole desire was to collapse onto my bed and sleep for two days at least.

If only the universe was of the same opinion.

A sudden rush of footsteps echoed through the dim lit corridor, and before I could react, something slammed into my back, pinning me against the cold stone wall. Gasping for air and struggling to shake off the disorientation, I found myself abruptly yanked around to face my attackers.

"Look what we've got here, boys!" Malfoy's voice dripped with glee. "A Weasley, strayed away from the herd." His goons, Crabbe and Goyle, held me against the wall and laughed at the taunt.

Just my luck.

"Malfoy!" I hissed, giving him my fiercest glare.

He grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Not feeling so clever now? I did warn you, remember?"

I remained silent, my mind racing to find an escape from this trap. Struggling to break free from the Slytherins' iron grip, I attempted a desperate kick, hoping to catch Malfoy off guard. However, the slippery git evaded it with ease.

"Now, I wouldn't do that if I were you," Malfoy chuckled, clearly enjoying my struggles. "Come on, Crabbe, show him what you can do."

The boy to my left shifted his grip to my shoulder, and in an instant, his hand felt scalding hot against my skin. Panic surged through me as the burning pain shot up my arm. I froze in fear, not daring to make any sudden moves.

"Not so smug now, without Potter to hide behind?" Malfoy taunted, reveling in my helplessness.

The sheer hypocrisy of his words was unbelievable, but before I could form a retort, the bastard delivered a punch to my gut, knocking the wind out of me.

"It's your fault!" he shouted, suddenly furious. "Because of you, I became the laughing stock in my own House! Twenty five points! Because of you, I'm stuck in detentions!" Each point was punctuated with a punch or a kick to my body, causing me to wince in pain.

"Now," he declared, pulling out his wand, "let's teach him a lesson he won't forget."

Alarm went through me as Crabbe and Goyle jerked me off the wall and dragged me towards a nearby closet. My heart was pounding in my chest as they shoved me inside and slammed the door shut, leaving me in pitch darkness.

"Enjoy your stay, Weasley. Colloportus," the unmistakable sound of the lock echoed through the narrow space. The trio's laughter faded away as they walked away.

Trapped and sore, I slumped against the door, struggling to catch my breath.

Filled with frustration, anger and humiliation, I vowed that one day Malfoy would pay for what he did. But for now, I was stuck as echoes of their laughter haunted me in the darkness.

Damn it.

'Hi, Mom, Dad,

I'm doing fine,

Sorry, I didn't write in time. This is Hedwig, by the way, Harry's owl. She's awesome. Also, she loves bacon.

I'm doing fine, except this shithead locked me up– today was our first flying lesson, where a nosey blonde prat– it was brilliant. You should've seen Harry today! Charlie would eat his elbows to get him on the team. Alas, Wood would have to do. Did I mention that Harry made the Team? Thanks to Malfoy– Professor McGonagall was so impressed with his skill on a broom, she was left speechless.

One nasty Slytherin– I get along with other Gryffindors just fine, it's not my fault that rotten git–that stuck-up brat–'

The light on the tip of my wand started to flicker again, interrupting my rant. In frustration I mentally scratched the last part all over and slumped my head against the door, entirely dismissing the Lumos spell.

I wasn't quite sure how much time I spent here, but it was definitely past the curfew now.

At first, I banged on the door and screamed for help for a while, but all in vain. What the heck? It was literally a turn away from the Grand Staircase, and no one heard, no teacher or Prefect appeared to pass by. Goddamn it, where were the ghosts when you needed them? I wondered not for the first time, if the door was thicker than I thought and muffled sounds too much. Though, why would a small closet, which served only to store mops and cleaning supplies, need any kind of sound proofing was anyone's guess.

Then, when I started fearing for my voice, I got the idea to preserve it by shouting out not in real life, but in futures. Since it never happened, it didn't put any strain on my vocal cords, but I still got results. Well, lack of them, but still.

My impromptu imprisonment actually felt kind of underwhelming. I certainly wasn't afraid of confined places – this room was not much smaller than my bedroom at home. Darkness was also not a problem. The biggest issue, that was slowly but surely driving me insane, was how utterly boring it was here.

I had inspected the closet thrice over, in search of something to help me out. It didn't really matter, if I found something or not as lockpicking was not a skill I ever imagined I'd need – I just needed something to do. Besides a broken broom, loads of bottles with unidentifiable contents, I found someone's lost shoe, a few Gobstone marbles and a whole lot of other useless trinkets. Also, there was a bucket in the corner and I tried my best not to think of what it could be useful for, if I wouldn't get out of here in time.

Soon I had grown bored of throwing pebbles into the bucket and, remembering my promise to Percy, I decided to write a letter home, even though I had nothing to write with.

It was getting progressively harder to keep my eyes open. While I was musing how comfortable the floor here was to sleep on, a sudden clatter noise caught my attention. It sounded like a suit of armor or two had crashed over a flight of stairs or something. Instantly waking up, I clinged to the door, struggling to hear anything. I was ready to bet it was certainly not a teacher.

After long seconds of silence I started to suspect that it was just a dream, when rapid footsteps, fast approaching, were heard. If it was Malfoy again– only it wasn't.

"Harry!" I pounded on the door with renewed energy. "Harry! I'm here!"

A few moments of shuffling, before, "Ron?" I slumped against the door in relief. Thank Merlin and Morgana. "What are you doing there?"

I held back a sarcastic retort on the tip of my tongue. "Malfoy locked me up in here!" I spat back instead.

"Malfoy again!?" he hissed angrily. "Let's get you out of there." There was a momentary pause, "There's no key in here."

"He used some sort of spell. Cullu– something."

"Colloportus?" a new voice chimed in.

My jaw particularly hit the floor. "Granger!?"

"You know the spell?" Harry demanded.

"Ah, so now you're talking to me?" she huffed. "Of course, I know. It's in the 'Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1', which you'd know too, if you'd bothered to open the book, honestly." A pause. "Fine. Move over, would you? Alohomora!"

A series of soft, shuffling clicks filled the air as numerous components of the lock shifted, aligning and adjusting for a few seconds. Then, with a final click, the lock surrendered, and the door swung open, revealing not just Harry and Hermione but also, surprisingly, Neville.

Noticing my surprise, he gave me an awkward wave, "Hi."

I mustered a weary smile. "Hi, guys. Thank you, I was getting ready to sleep right there, on the floor," I said. "But… what're you doing here? I thought it's long past curfew."

"It is," Harry said bluntly. "You didn't come to the dorms. At first, I figured Professor McGonagall had kept you late for detention, but you never showed up. Neville too, actually. So I went looking for you," he shrugged. "Thought you were in trouble. And these two," he shot a glare at his companions, "decided to join me."

My brows jumped upwards. "Really? You broke the curfew to come find me?" I asked with a good deal of incredulity.

Granger made a small noise, as if the mere prospect was absurd.

"Actually," Neville started sheepishly. "I forgot the password and was stuck outside the common room. And then, as Harry and Hermione left, the Fat Lady disappeared and I didn't really have a choice."

"Alright. And what's your excuse, Miss You-mustn't-wander-the-school-at-night? You're always lecturing about not breaking rules, yet here you are. Tsk-tsk-tsk, shame on you."

My teasing was clearly not appreciated as her face turned red.

"You– I– That's– You idiot! It's not how it happened!" she exclaimed in indignation, her voice much louder than necessary.

A tense silence fell all over us, our ears straining for any footsteps.

"Just so you know, it's your fault," Granger whispered to me, her glare persistent.

Suddenly, Harry jumped, his head snapped around to somewhere behind us, startling the rest of the group. Half a second later, I also picked up on the approaching trouble – Filch was on his way.

"No time. Run!" I shouted, and the four of us sprinted down the corridor, not looking back to see whether Filch was following; we ran around a suit of armor – not dropping it, thankfully, and galloped down one corridor then another, Harry in the lead. I hoped he knew where we were going. At some point, we ran through a tapestry hiding a hidden staircase leading to the third floor. We hurtled it and came out to the nearby Charms classroom, where we came to a stop.

"I think we've lost him," I bent over, with hands on my knees, gasping for breath. I sighed in relief, not catching any sight of the caretaker in the immediate future.

"Yay. I didn't even crash into anything," Neville called weakly from somewhere on the floor.

"I– told– you," Granger managed to squeeze out, clutching her side, "I told you."

"We need to get back to the Gryffindor tower," said Harry, "as soon as possible."

"Malfoy tricked you," she addressed Harry. "I hope you realize that. Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room – Malfoy must have tipped him off."

"Wait– what the heck are you on about?" I turned to her.

"Your stupid duel with Malfoy, what else?" she shot me another fierce glare. "I knew you two were going to sneak out, so I guarded the entrance. You somehow slipped out, but I caught Harry. Did he ever listen to me? No! He just brushed me aside and kept going, completely ignoring me!" she cried in indignation, shifting her attention back to Harry. "What do you say now, smart guy?"

My brain froze for a moment, struggling to process all Granger dumped on me. When it finally clicked, I couldn't decide if the situation was frustrating or hilarious. At the end I settled for something in between.

"Granger," I sighed, "I know it's hard to believe, but we are not stupid. We're aware that Malfoy is a blasted sucker. We knew perfectly well what he was trying to do. None of us were going to show up for this bloody duel tonight."

Harry silently nodded to my words.

"Uh-huh," her tone was laced with skepticism. "That's why you went to the trophy room right away?"

Harry shrugged in response. "It was as good a place to start as any."

"And I didn't sneak out of anywhere! Weren't you listening? I haven't so much as set foot in the Gryffindor Tower after dinner. Malfoy with his goons caught me before that and– well, locked me up. That's all." I mentally winced at my near-slip. There was no way I was going to share my humiliating beating-up or Edward's secret passage. Not in the current company anyway.

"But–"

I cut off her arguing. "Look, we don't have time for this. Let's get back to the Tower first."

I'd been peeking into the future during the whole stop and seen no sign of Filch or anyone else. However, it didn't give full certainty – nothing actually did when it came to predicting people. Filch could have a flash of inspiration and choose a lucky (unlucky for us) course, or someone else could go a different way during a patrol.

I should have known that nothing was going to be simple. We barely made a dozen paces when my magic gave me a warning of Peeves showing up. Unfortunately, there was no time to act, before the poltergeist shot out of a classroom just ahead of us.

He paused at the sight of us and let out a high squeal of delight.

"Shut up, Peeves," hushed Harry.

He cackled.

"Ickle Firsties wandering around at night? How naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty," he sang.

"Not if you don't give us away, we don't, Peeves, please."

"Should tell Filch, I really should–"

"Don't you dare," Harry mustered his best glare.

"Yeah, you don't want us to seek the Bloody Baron on you, right?" added I, remembering Percy's threat. Which proved to be a stupid move not an instant later.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR—"

Ducking under the transparent figure, we ran for our lives, right to the end of the corridor, which turned out to be locked.

"Hermione! Hurry!" I called desperately, as I watched how Filch was going to be here literally in seconds.

She poked the lock with her wand and murmured, "Alohomora". A pale purple burst of magic shot from the tip of her wand and sunk into the keyhole. The familiar clicking noise followed as the spell went its course. Five seconds. Four. Three.

'Come on!' I grit my teeth. Click.

We barely managed to slip into the swung open door and shut it just in time, pressing our ears against it. Filch and Peeves were too far down the corridor to hear anything. Thankfully, I had a perfect way of observing the situation behind the door, impossible to detect. Steadily ignoring whoever was tugging on my sleeve, I focused all my attention on the scene behind the door. With bated breath, I watched how Filch interrogated the poltergeist, gesturing wildly. It apparently bore no fruit as Peeves flew away with ringing laughter, leaving Filch to stomp away in anger.

Letting out a sigh of relief, I dutifully informed others, "Filch's gone. We're safe– Stop it!" I snapped at Neville who had been distracting me all this time.

I turned around and froze in horror. Filling the space between the floor and the ceiling was a monstrous three headed dog with six mad eyes, saliva dripping from its mouths, each of which seemed big enough to swallow all of us at once.

I blindly groped for the doorknob, trying my best not to whimper.

As we fell backwards, Harry promptly slammed the door shut. We ran madly, almost flew, back down the corridor. We didn't meet Filch or anyone else, not that it mattered to us any – I'd rather get detention for weeks than getting chewed out by that monstrosity. We didn't stop running until we reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Where on earth have you been?" she asked in indignation, looking over our flushed faces and crumpled appearance.

"Never mind– pig snout," panted Harry, causing the portrait to swing open. We scrambled into the common room and collapsed, trembling, into armchairs.

"What are they thinking, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?" finally I voiced a question, which bothered me all this time.

That was the moment Granger regained her breath as well as her bad temper. "You don't use your eyes, do you?" she snapped. "Didn't you see what it was standing on?"

We all three exchanged disbelieving glances.

"The floor?" I tried. "Sorry, I wasn't looking at its feet. I was too busy with its three heads."

"No, not the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something."

She stood up, glaring at us. "I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed – or worse, expelled. I'm going to bed."

I stared after her, clenching my teeth and fists. "As if it's our fault she poked her nose where it's not wanted. No one asked her."

My little ranting however was ignored: Harry was deep in thought, Neville was already half way up to bed, eager to forget what transpired tonight. I decided to follow his example and rush to sleep for however many hours were left.

Next morning I woke up sore all over, bruised and completely drained after last night's events. It was surprisingly tempting to punch Harry in the face for being so cheerful and energized. Now, after adrenaline had dropped, he thought of it as an excellent adventure and, judging by the information he eagerly shared with me, quite keen on having another one.

I didn't quite share his enthusiasm, but I had to admit, the mystery of what item it could be that required such protection, certainly caught my attention. However, we had nothing to go on from, as all we knew was that it was two inches long, it was either massively valuable or dangerous. Likely both.

Neither Neville or Hermione showed a single bit of interest in the topic of what could be hidden underneath the trapdoor. Hermione was now refusing to speak to us, which both Harry and I considered to be a blessing.

The only thing I wanted now was to get back at Malfoy. I actually forgot about the prick for a little bit, until I caught his smug smirk directed at me at breakfast. Oh, how I wanted to punch him in the face. Harry's absolutely murderous aura both warmed my heart and made me uneasy.

Loathsome I was to admit, but there was nothing really any of us could do.

Nonetheless, I got myself a bit of retribution soon enough, when Harry received a broomstick via post owl, and not just any broomstick! No, he'd got Nimbus 2000, the newest and fastest model on the market. The very same Nimbus, with revolutionary design for best balance between speed and control, with insane acceleration charms that put this baby from zero to full speed in seconds! This piece of art was in a whole different league from school Shooting Stars, what am I talking about, even Cleansweep Seven couldn't hold a candle to it, if it tried. Harry was going to be unstoppable on the field.

And all thanks to one blonde pain in the neck.

Malfoy's expression of pure horror when Professor Flitwick all but confirmed that Harry had gotten into the Quidditch Team, certainty made my day.

We all settled into a routine. Schoolwork wasn't too bad, I actually enjoyed it. Potions became my best subject so far. Though Snape still didn't pass up a chance to belittle Harry, I tried my best to prevent any incidents and maintain good work. Charms came in at a solid second place, although my casting still left much to be desired. At least I grasped the theoretical part, unlike Transfiguration, which just didn't seem to click in my head.

While Harry was engrossed in Quidditch training thrice a week, I dedicated my time to private wand practicing. Occasionally, I worked with Neville, who seemed to have as much trouble as I did for some reason. During these studying sessions I didn't only work on my Lumos, but also managed to successfully cast my second spell – the Unlocking Charm.

I initially thought that the Alohomora spell must have some divination aspect to it in order to pinpoint the exact parts of the locking device to apply force to and their sequence. However, it turned out the spell worked mostly by a trial-and-error approach – essentially shuffling its parts around semi-randomly until the lock opens. The method obviously was rather slow and only worked on the most primitive mechanisms. Still, it was better than nothing should I find myself locked up again.

Since the Malfoy incident I made it a habit to never stroll around alone and had been extra vigilant in scanning the futures ahead. Thankfully, the Slytherins must have been satisfied with the amount of misery they had delivered as they mostly left me alone, beside some snide comments.

Time flew quickly until Halloween came. During breakfast, an overwhelming amount of pumpkin pastries were served, filling the air with their. I wasn't particularly fond of the orange fruit; I tolerated it at best, which was difficult to do when it was literally everywhere. By the afternoon I was so sick of it that I wished we had Defense Against the Dark Arts today, just to mask the smell.

Fortunately, my mood lifted somewhat in Double Charms, where we finally got to try out the Levitation Charm we had all been eagerly awaiting since the very first lesson. We had spent weeks taking notes and practicing wand movements, and today Professor Flitwick deemed us ready.

I barely suppressed a groan as the Professor split the class into pairs and I found myself with Hermione Granger. Thankfully, she hadn't spoken to either of us since Harry's broom arrived, and I hoped it would stay that way a little longer.

Try as I might, I couldn't get the spell to work. The Levitation Charm was more challenging than the Wand-Lighting charm. All Lumos did was simply produce light and nothing more. Wingardium Leviosa covered an object in a field of highly dense air and let the caster move it around to a certain extent. While not truly a telekinetic spell, it was quite close, especially when dealing with relatively small and light items.

Molding magical power into the proper shape for the spell to work was a challenge I struggled with. Wand movements and incantations were supposed to assist us in that task. So far, no luck for me.

"Brilliant job, Miss McAllister! However, you're to practice the Levitation Charm, not whatever that is."

Professor Flitwick's remark called everyone's attention to a black girl who effortlessly made her feather dance in the air with a mere finger.

That display only deepened my frustration, especially when I saw several other feathers floating high in the air already. It seemed I wasn't the only one with emotions running high, as Seamus set his feather on fire shortly after. No one paid much attention, though – he had managed to ignite something in almost every practical lesson. Harry nonchalantly put out the flames and resumed his work.

Ultimately, my mounting exasperation got the better of me and I gave up. Head in my hands, I fixed my feather with the fiercest glare, wishing I could pull a Seamus and bloody burn it to ash.

"What's the point? I won't be able to do it anyway," I mumbled to myself.

Apparently not softly enough, as Granger immediately snapped at me.

"What nonsense! You just have to work hard enough. And by the way, you're saying it all wrong. It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."

"If you're so clever, you do it," I hissed.

Unfazed, she rolled up her sleeves, flicked her wand and recited, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Surrounded by a barely visible aura of air magic, the feather followed her wand higher into the air, while my mood sank lower. Her condescending look only infuriated me further.

"Well done, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick enthusiastically, "Look, Ms. Granger's done it too!"

Clenching my fists, I tried my best to ignore everyone around me, silently stewing in anger. As the class progressed, things only got worse. My spell construct fell apart before it could even form halfway through. My raging tamper certainly didn't help in focusing my will.

"'You just have to work hard enough'. What does she understand?" I complained to Harry in the crowded corridor. "No wonder no one can stand her, insufferable know-it-all."

Suddenly, someone bumped into me from behind. All I saw was a wall of bushy brown hair hurrying past me.

"I think she heard you," he commented in a dry tone.

"I can see that," I muttered. "I mean, she's got to notice that she has no friends." I said defensively.

Granger didn't show up for the Flying lesson, and apparently, nobody saw her since Charms. On our way to the Great Hall for the Halloween Feast, we accidentally overheard Parvati telling her friend Lavender Brown that Hermione was crying in a girls' bathroom and asked to be left alone. I felt a pang of guilt at the news, but in a moment, we entered the heavily decorated Great Hall, and the prospect of the feast quickly pushed the thoughts of Granger out of my mind. I figured she'd be fine anyway.

Inside, a thousand seemingly alive bats fluttered from wall to wall under the ceiling, while another thousand eagerly swooped over the tables in black clouds, causing the candles in pumpkins to flicker. The feast magically appeared on the golden plates, just as it did at the beginning of the term.

I was helping myself to a second portion of shepherd's pie when the doors to the Great Hall burst open all of a sudden. It was Professor Quirell who appeared behind the doorway, looking as if hounds from hell were after him – pretty much his everyday appearance, but something clearly scared the poor man more than usual.

Under the watchful stares of hundreds of students, he sprinted right up to Headmaster Dumbledore's chair and slumped over the table.

"Troll– in the dungeons," he squeezed between gasps. "Thought you ought to know…" And then fainted.

A single second of ringing silence stretched as everyone digested what he said.

The crowd exploded into an uproar, but a few flashbangs from the tip of the Headmaster's wand quickly brought everyone to silence.

"Prefects!" he thundered. "Lead your Houses to the dormitories immediately."

Percy seemed to spring up before he finished the first word. It was his time to shine.

"Follow me! Hurry up! Stick together, first years! Follow my orders, and everyone will be fine! Now, stay close behind me!"

He forcefully made his way through the flow of students, occasionally yelling "Excuse me, I'm a prefect!" or "Make way for first years!". At that moment, he awfully reminded me of mom for some reason.

"How could a troll get in?" asked Harry as we climbed up the stairs.

"That's a good question. They're usually pretty stupid," I said. "Could Peeves let it in as a Halloween joke?" Or someone else. Certainly not the twins – they're not that bonkers. I hoped so. Pretty intense for a joke, anyway.

We were walking between various groups of people heading in different directions. In the midst of a crowd of extremely confused Hufflepuff, Harry suddenly grabbed my arm.

"Ron, I just thought– Hermione."

I blinked. "What?"

"She doesn't know about the troll."

I grimaced. "Are you– yes, you're serious," I recoiled at his glare.

I helplessly glanced up at Percy – he was already behind the tapestry hiding the 'secret' shortcut to the second floor, which he had shown us on September First.

"Alright, alright. But Percy'd better not know about this," I added. The troll was in the dungeons, right? Sneak out, sneak in – problem solved, no one would notice anything.

Ducking down, we blended in with the Hufflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corridor and sprinted towards the girls' bathroom.

While running, I decided to check out the future along the way, and thank Merlin I did. I swiftly pulled Harry behind a nearby statue.

"What–"

I hushed him.

"Snape," I whispered.

He paused for a moment straining his hearing. "I don't–"

"Trust me."

He looked surprised but nodded in all seriousness.

We needed to wait only for several seconds… I started at the next vision. Snape was going to notice us anyway.

"Get back!" I hissed and once again dragged Harry behind another suit of armor standing further from the corridor intersection ahead. Harry didn't appreciate being manhandled but froze in place, apparently sensing something.

Rapid footsteps echoed through the walls as Snape finally crossed the corridor and disappeared from view, completely oblivious to two first years just barely out of reach.

"Where's he going?" Harry wondered after a pause. "Wasn't he supposed to be down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?"

"Beats me." I shook my head. "Doesn't matter."

As quiet as possible, we resumed moving towards the bathroom, hoping Hermione had stayed where she was. There were no other surprises until an overwhelming foul stench filled my nose, like a mix of rotting garbage and stale sewer water.

I moaned, "What's that smell?"

Harry pointed forward and only then did I hear it – a low grunting noise and the loud scruffing of massive feet. At the end of the passage something enormous was moving away from us. As the figure reached the end, the dim light fell on it.

It was a terrible sight to behold. Towering over twelve feet tall, with skin of lifeless, granite-like color, the troll had a massive, misshapen form that resembled a colossal boulder with an oddly small bald head. Thick stubby legs with flat horny feet only added to the grotesque appearance. The stench was so potent that it brought tears to my eyes. Completing the horrifying picture was a humongous wooden club it dragged along the floor.

I held my breath as the troll stopped next to a doorway, tilting its head as if listening before grunting and shuffling inside.

As I released my breath in relief, my mind raced with possibilities. It might be a good idea to lock the door, then–

My heart sank, as my divination magic told me what exactly would happen. What would happen anyway.

Turning to Harry, I saw the same startled realization on his face.

"Hermione!" We yelled together, and rushed inside right at the moment when Hermione let out the same high, ear-splitting scream that I just heard seconds prior.

She was standing shivering by the opposite wall, terrified, eyes fixed on the monstrosity in front of her. The troll had already smashed a few sinks off the wall and was slowly advancing towards the girl.

Without wasting a second, Harry grabbed a metal pipe and struck a sink with all his might. "Oi, ugly face!"

The hulking creature stopped merely a few feet from Hermione, confused by the noise. Blinking stupidly, it slowly swayed around, trying to locate its source. Finally, its small eyes settled on Harry's small figure.

Thank you, Harry, your sacrifice won't be forgotten. "

As my insanely brave friend kept distracting the troll, I seized the opportunity to run around it.

"Hermione! Run!" I whisper-yelled, attempting to pull her along, but no use – she remained frozen against the wall, mouth agape in terror.

"Damn it, Granger! Snap out of it! Come. On!"

My cries of frustration, combined with Harry's noisy distractions and the echoes in the room, were driving the stupid creature into a frenzy. The troll roared and started turning back towards me and Hermione as the nearest targets. In a moment of panic, I almost reflexively looked at the future where I tried to run back past the troll while it was still not fully turned.

'Tried' was the key word. Its club struck the future me with an earth-shattering force breaking my entire body like a twig.

An agonized scream tore out of my throat. Searing heat spread through every fiber of my being. My chest felt as if it'd been cracked open. My head was throbbing furiously, the world around me was spinning in a dizzying whirlpool. My vision blurred and darkened – I struggled to stay conscious under the waves of pain crashing over me.

At some point, I felt dissociated from my body, as if merely observing the torment from a distance, until eventually I found myself on my knees on the floor, struggling to catch my breath. My body was covered in a cold sheen of sweat, drops falling to the ground from my face. Nausea surged through me as my stomach churned.

Amidst a swarm of dissonant sounds, I managed to single out particularly persistent shouts of "Ron!" and "No!" along with low guttural howls. Carefully raising my head, I stared at the scene in front of me, struggling to comprehend what was happening.

The troll was twisting and flailing around, attempting to swipe away Harry, who, for some inexplicable reason, was clinging to its neck for dear life. Also, a wand was sticking out of the troll's nostril. Ew.

Surprisingly, that wasn't the most disturbing part. At first, I thought I was still dizzy from the psychic shock and my eyes were just playing tricks, until I recognized the whole sensoric mess for what it was – an uncontrollable flow of futures. My heart sank as I realized that my mental defense had been shattered upon impact.

It was one hundred percent the worst situation to fix it in.

I was growing more terrified by the second as I witnessed the danger Harry was facing. The troll could deliver a fatal blow with its club at any moment or crush him against the wall, and I helplessly saw it all unfold before me. I felt utterly useless to do anything. What good is knowing the future if every single one of them is horrible!?

I watched again how the troll pulled Harry by his leg– wait, is it future or present!? Damn it. My mind struggled to make sense of the fragmented visions.

Suddenly, a new vision appeared, and my fear escalated as it consumed more and more possibilities. I had to get out of there immediately. With a burst of adrenaline I sprang to my feet. Ignoring my rapidly spinning head and Hermione's whimpering I grabbed her and pulled her aside with all the strength I could muster. Within seconds, I had both of us pinned to the corner putting as much distance as possible between us and the troll and, more importantly, Harry.

In a moment that felt like eternity, a cloud of malevolent black energy exploded from Harry, engulfing him, the troll and spreading out further. I was just out of reach, along with Hermione, but it was still terrifyingly close.

As quickly as it appeared, the magic smog dissipated, revealing Harry lying on the ground seemingly unharmed. The troll, on the other hand, swayed for a moment before collapsing with a heavy thud that made the whole chamber tremble.

Harry was visibly shaken and out of breath, seemingly in shock.

However, I didn't have much time to focus on our continuing survival as my pounding headache was steadily becoming harder and harder to ignore. With a sudden swirl of vertigo, I stumbled towards the nearest toilet and promptly threw up, deeply regretting the second piece of pie I had eaten at the feast.

After I emptied my stomach, I took a moment to silently savor the moment of relief, as short-lived as it was. I winced at a sudden onslaught of possible conversations bombarding my mind, and I quickly erected my mental shield. It wasn't perfect but it would have to do for now

Emerging from the toilet stall, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Harry was still sprawled out on the tile floor, seemingly unresponsive.

"Harry?" I called out, concerned. "You alright?"

He continued to stare at what he had done, clearly overwhelmed.

"Harry!" I cried, trying to snap him out of it.

"What? I– Erm– Yeah.." he stammered.

Then Hermione finally spoke up.

"Is it– dead?"

Harry flinched violently, as if struck. Wincing, I carefully watched the fallen body.

"I don't think so," I said, pulling Harry's wand from the troll's nose with a grimace. "I think it's still breathing." I wiped it on the troll's trousers. Gross.

An awkward silence settled among the three of us as we tried to recover from the shock.

"What– was that?" Granger asked hesitantly, her voice unexpectedly timid. "What was that magic? And why did– how did you–" she stopped herself, holding back her barrage of questions, which I appreciated.

Suddenly, a slamming noise and loud footsteps echoed, drawing our attention. I hadn't realized till now that all the commotion we had caused must have attracted a significant amount of attention. A moment later, Professor McGonagall in all her furious glory stormed through the door, followed closely by Snape and Quirrel, lagging behind. The latter took one look at the troll and the whole chaos, then slid down the wall with a whimper.

Snape immediately bent over the troll to examine its body, while Professor McGonagall's furious gaze focused solely on the three of us. Her sharp eyes scanned us from head to toe, and although she lingered on me for a moment, she seemed to find us in an acceptable condition.

As soon as she ensured that we hadn't sustained any injuries, her form tightened with barely contained anger. Her lips were pressed together, reflecting the tension in her voice.

"What is the meaning of this?" Professor McGonagall demanded with the cold fury in her voice. "You're lucky you're alive right now! Why are you not in the dormitory?"

Snape shot Harry a look full of contempt. I averted my eyes to the floor.

Before any of us could respond, a voice from behind me spoke up.

"They were looking for me, Professor McGonagall!" she said. "I– I went looking for the troll because– because I thought I could deal with it. I've read all about them."

I nearly dropped the wand I was still holding. Hermione Granger outright lying to a teacher?

"–they didn't have time to fetch anyone. If they hadn't arrived when they did I would be dead by now."

Professor McGonagall's scrutiny intensified as she listened to Hermione's story.

"Miss Granger, I don't appreciate being lied to," she stated firmly, causing Hermione to turn red. "Now, the truth, if you please."

"I–"

"Hermione missed the Halloween feast, Professor, " I spoke up. "She missed it because I hurt her, and she ran away crying. It's my fault she wasn't with everyone and didn't know about the danger."

She stared at the three of us.

"Well– in that case…" she then looked around at the broken pieces, the troll and back to us. "I hope you all realize how fortunate you are. Not every first year student can take down a fully grown mountain troll and live to tell the tale. Each of you earn five points for Gryffindor. For sheer dumb luck."

I stood there, dumbstruck.

"Now, Mr. Weasley, do you need to go to the Hospital Wing?" she asked, peering at me with her steely gaze.

"Um, no, I'm alright," her eyes narrowed. I hurried to add, "I just got sick from the smell."

She wrinkled her nose in distaste, as if she had just now noticed the foul odor filling the room.

"Gentlemen, I trust you can handle it from here," she addressed her colleagues, her tone curt and businesslike. "Now, come, I'll accompany you to the Gryffindor Tower."

We hurriedly left the chamber, trailing behind the Professor like a bunch of ducklings. The tense silence that draped over us was palpable, each of us consumed by our own thoughts.

The procession reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"This is as far as I'll go; I still have some work to do. I hope it was enough to keep you out of more trouble. Good night."

With those parting words, Professor McGonagall turned around and left us alone with the portrait looking us over in curiosity.

"Pig snout," we said and entered.

The common room was bustling with noise and activity. Everyone was eating the food that had been brought up, so fortunately our untimely arrival went unnoticed.

An awkward pause lingered among us.

"Thanks," said Hermione.

She was about to walk away when I stopped her. "Wait," I paused for a moment. "How about we talk tomorrow? After class," I glanced uncertainly at Harry. "We'll explain things. Alright?"

After a moment of hesitation she nodded. Harry didn't appear happy but agreed too.

Personally, I didn't have much of an appetite, so I promptly excused myself to bed. That night sleep didn't come easily as countless thoughts raced through my mind.

Among them, the revelation that Harry Potter was apparently a bloody death mage.

Notes:

Ta ta da dam! Surprise! Harry's magic type is revealed, hope you liked it.

What exactly does death magic entails will be covered in the next chapter, along with a lot of lore-building details I've been holding out on you: what magic types even are there? what abilities they might have? How they work? and so on.

So, the next chapter is going to be about the trio finally coming together, about them coming clean: Ron admits to his future seeing abilities, Harry tells his story, we learn Hermione's magic type. A lot of revelations.

If you want, you could try to guess Hermione's type of magic. I'm not quite sure that I even mentioned her magic type as an option anywhere in this story but it's not extremely outlandish and pretty much exists in Harry Potter universe. I personally think it's a good choice for her. I wonder what you would come up with for her. Who knows, maybe your choice will be even better than mine (no, it doesn't mean I would change it)