Summary of the last chapter:
Harry adapts to life in Hogwarts. He mostly hangs out with Hermione and Neville, but plays chess with Blaise and has discussion with Draco. When Hermione corrects Ron in Charms and he says something nasty to her, he sends her crying to the loo. Harry find her and talks to her, pointing out that there's no need for her to be trying so hard – she's a lot smarter than she gives herself credit for. Comforted, Hermione and Harry leave the bathroom and attend the Halloween feast.
A/N: Stuff happening on this website gets weirder and weirder. Stats and email notifications are still down. Posting here isn't fun anymore. Just so you know: This story (and all others) are also on A03 (Archive Of Our Own). So if you should find no updates here anymore (I don't know what else will stop working), find me there!
I also apologize for the shortish chapters, but I need to give my beta time to go through them during her working week. She's doing it all for free and I'm immensely grateful for her help!
Amber, I really regret not being able to answer to your long review(s). So only this much: Hermione is very busy with all her
studying, and in her free time, she hangs out with Neville and Harry. She gets along with the girls in her dorm, but she found her close friends outside of her own house.
Frank: I corrected Padma's name. Thank you!
Troubles with Trolls
A little later in the evening, both Harry and Hermione felt relief about his decision to come and talk to her. Who knew what might have happened if Hermione had still been alone in her bathroom when all students were evacuated because of a troll in the dungeons?
As it turned out later, it hadn't been in the dungeons at all, but rather very close to exactly the bathroom Hermione had been hiding in. A good thing, if one considered the danger it would have posed to all Slytherin students down there, as Dumbledore had ordered the prefects to lead all students back to their dorms. How the headmaster could have forgotten that the Slytherin dorm actually was right where the troll was supposed to be, Harry had no idea. Tom pointed out that keeping all students safely in the Great Hall with so many teachers present would have been a much safer option, and Harry agreed. He hadn't been happy on his way down to the dungeons, expecting a troll to jump out at him from behind every tapestry they passed. He hadn't known at the time how incredibly big trolls were and that there was no tapestry big enough to actually hide one. The knowledge wouldn't have served to make him feel more secure anyway.
The troll was the topic of discussion for much of the next day. How had he managed to get into the school? It wasn't like they were prone to just hike down from the mountains and enter random buildings. According to Draco, they were too stupid to even open a door.
"Somebody must have let him in," Draco insisted, "there's no doubt about it." The Malfoy heir had also expressed his grievances about Dumbledore and the obvious security issues in the school. ('Wait until my father hears about this!') For once, Harry and Tom silently agreed with him.
"Draco might be a git, but he's right about one thing: Hogwarts under Dumbledore does have a security issue," said Tom irritatedly. "Hiding a valuable magical artifact in a school and having a three-headed dog and God knows what else guarding it, is highly irresponsible! What is he thinking? And now the troll incident. Any Muggle headmaster would have long since faced suspension."
Harry and Hermione, after reading up everything they could find on trolls in the library, decided that Draco was also right about the troll not having been an accidental visitor. They were too stupid to overcome barriers such as door handles. "But how does one transport a living troll – especially clandestinely?" wondered Tom, and Harry passed his question on to Hermione and Neville, who were sitting with him at their regular table. They threw some ideas back and forth, but most of their theories sounded rather outlandish and not really feasible.
"Getting them to move where you want them is easy," suddenly came the input from the table next to them, where the Weasley twins, Ron's twin brothers, had been searching for charms that made non-avians grow feathers for some reason. "You just have to dangle a nice treat in front of their noses."
"Just make sure you remain behind the troll while you levitate your bait to where you want the troll to move," the other brother helpfully advised. "If the troll sees you, it might decide you're a nicer treat yourself."
"Though how to smuggle one into Hogwarts secretly …" the first twin mused, putting a finger on his mouth in thought, "… that's a really good question. None of the secret ways into the castle we know of is big enough for a troll. It must have been brought in while everybody was at the feast – through the main entrance, no less."
"Well, there are trolls in the Forbidden Forest, so whoever did it wouldn't have had to lure it very far," added Neville. "And they must have cast a sound muffling charm on it."
"And are they very difficult to fight?" asked Harry. "I mean, Professor Quirrell is the Defence teacher. Shouldn't he have been able to take down a mountain troll?"
"Well, their hide is thick and requires multiple blasts of powerful magic to stun them …" ventured George. Or was it Fred? Harry wasn't sure but decided to stick with it.
"And Quirrell's been very much a scaredy pants ever since he encountered vampires in Romania," added Fred, only to have his brother jump in again with another theory about their defence professor: "Which is why he started wearing a turban in the first place: He stuffs it with garlic."
"You know, he used to be the Muggle studies teacher and was actually pretty normal …" explained his brother, and Harry's eyes flew back to George.
"… until he went on a sabbatical, supposedly to gain some first-hand experience …"
"… though what kind of first-hand experience he needed for his position is a mystery …
"… he could've spent the year in Muggle London for that."
It was like watching a tennis match on TV. Tom complained it made him dizzy.
"Anyway, he hasn't been the same since he came back," concluded George, and Fred nodded. "Now he's scared of his own shadow and can't speak a sentence without a stutter."
"Why did Dumbledore make him the DADA professor in the first place?" wondered Harry, feeling Tom echoing his mystification. "He doesn't seem to have the qualifications."
The twins shrugged. "He couldn't find anyone else," said the first.
"There's a curse on the position," added the second. "Professors who teach it either die, get injured, suffer some misfortune or end up fired. Makes it hard to find a new teacher every year."
"And Quirrell didn't know that?"
"He must have – it's common knowledge. Volunteered anyway."
"Maybe it was the only job offered to him after his sabbatical," Hermione mused, "and he needed the job?"
That was a possible explanation, yet Harry and Tom remained wary as far as Quirrell was concerned. The fact that he might have tried to Legilimize Harry was reason enough to distrust him. What kind of teacher did such a thing? And surely a teacher who was afraid of trolls and vampires couldn't be called competent. Professor Snape had been the one to take the troll down all by himself.
"What did the person who let the troll in hope to achieve?" Harry asked Tom later, as the question kept nagging him. "Did he hope it would kill some students? Why? It doesn't make any sense."
"Maybehe intended to set it on Fluffy to get at whatever he's guarding. It might be easier to lure a troll to do the job than to fight a three-headed dog."
"Well, it was found in the third floor corridor, not in the dungeons, so the idea might have some merit. Maybe the troll isn't quite as stupid as to fight a three-headed dog and just turned on its heel when he saw it."
"Yes, but that doesn't explain why Quirrell claimed to have come across it in the dungeons," Tom pointed out. "Unless he was the one who let the troll in."
"You think he's interested in getting whatever Fluffy's guarding?" Harry took a moment to think this over. "Do you remember the day in Diagon Alley, when I thought for a moment that I had seen Quirrell?" Harry asked Tom.
"I remember. I didn't see him, though."
"Isn't it funny that we use the same pair of eyes, but don't always see the same things?" Harry wondered. "It's happened before, and I mean not only when we're reading."
"That's because we sometimes interpret things we see differently. Or our focus is on different details."
"Tom… I've been meaning to ask you this for a while. Isn't it horrible for you to be stuck in there? Don't you ever think of trying to get a body of your own?"
Tom sighed. "I don't really remember anything else. My memories of a time when I was my own person are very dim. And they are not good, so I prefer not to go there. The idea of not having you with me … it scares me. I think I'd rather live with you and through you than be alone and miserable. Without you, I don't think I'd be … whole."
"But that doesn't make any sense. You'd still be you in your own body."
"I don't know. There's no sense thinking about it anyway. I'm stuck here, and I've gotten used to it. It feels like I've always been that way, so I'm not missing anything."
"Well, if you ever change your mind… who knows, there might be a way to get you out of there. We know so little of magic – there might be a reasonable explanation for how you got stuck there in the first place, and a professor might have an idea what to do about it."
"No!" said Tom, alarmed. "Harry, you can't tell anybody! Until we hear that it's normal to have another person stuck in your head – and with all we've read, it doesn't seem to be normal at all – we can't let anybody know. Who knows what they might do to us …"
"Relax, I'm not going to do anything without your consent. As far as I'm concerned, we share this body. Like two people in a car. I just happen to be the driver."
"Do you sometimes think of getting rid of me?" asked Tom fearfully.
"Never! Or at least never for my own sake. It'd be like losing a part of myself. You're my best friend - my soultwin. No matter what happens, we'll always have each other. Do you have any idea what a huge comfort that is?"
Tom nodded. He knew. He didn't fully understand how he knew, but of this one thing he was certain: He needed Harry. Without him, he would be cold, miserable and alone, an unwanted cut-off piece of something that was raw, bleeding and always hurting. No, he really didn't like to think about it.
*'*'*'*Interlude*'*'*'*
"Well, well, well … If that isn't my wayward servant!"
The pitiful creature that was crouched on the floor blinked, feeling disoriented. Then his roaming eyes found his master's grotesque face and his expression changed from wonder to shock.
"My Lord! Is it really you? How is this possible? Everyone thought you dead!" Frantic scrambling brought him to a more dignified position on his knees.
The gaze that fell on him was full of disdain. "And this is how you chose to spend your life?"
"I followed the plan! I did as you said! And then … I lost myself."
"Yes, I can see that. Pathetic! Don't you know anything?"
More wailful excuses came out of his servant's mouth. "Master! I'm sorry! I was so scared I'd be found out! I didn't think …"
"Quite obviously, you didn't. I had credited you with more intelligence. How disappointing!"
"I am sorry! Please, forgive me, Master!"
"Forgiveness needs to be earned. You are lucky that I have a task for you – an opportunity to redeem yourself and prove your usefulness to me."
"Anything, my Lord!"
"I need you sneak into the Ministry and retrieve something for me. I realize that you can't do it during term, as your presence here would be missed. But during the Christmas holidays, an opportunity should present itself. This is what I want you to do …."