As Harry Potter ran to the unused classroom where the sounds of a struggle were coming from, she didn't have time to ponder where she was or why. She really, really hoped this would work, and she only had a few seconds to fret over what would possess a girl to be so stupid as to wander off where a troll could get her. A revelo wouldn't work here. As a boy (and, in his own estimation, a very handsome one) he'd gone through all of Jeanette's naked rituals by various kinds of trees to "build up magical potential" but despite being a nymph, she hadn't taken any liberties as he'd rather hoped she would. On paper, conturbabimus would work long enough to drag the idiotic girl away before the troll could gather its wits and start serious spell-casting.

She kicked the door open and yelled the incantation without even looking around. Both figures struggling on the floor suddenly went slack and stared around them.

Harry dragged the girl (not bad looking but very dowdy) through the dusty, nondescript door and cast adfigo on it — another first attempt that worked. She owed Jeanette a debt of thanks. Eunice St. Clair, too. From the pounding the door was now taking, it was more than holding up. The girl was coming to her senses, so they dashed toward where she told Harry her room was. When they reached the section, the girl first made a complex gesture and said, "Nuntius Amelia Cackle hazardous being in the North Tower corridor, last room!", causing a white bird to appear and fly off with a scrap of paper in its beak, then spelled Harry in, and they ended up sitting on her bed. The girl was still shaking a bit but she smiled at Harry.

"Thank you for saving me from ... was that a troll?"

"A troll wizard, I guess you'd call it."

"That's supposed to be impossible, you know. But in any case, thank you ... "

"Harriet Potter. Named after my father, Harry Potter, senior. I go by Harry preferentially."

"Ah, I am Hermione ... " the girl paused. " ... Grant. Hermione Grant."

Harry had never prided himself on his intellect. When it came to the things that interested him, like friends, girls, girlfriends (you get the picture), he'd seen that having a pretty face was far more important than whatever you had going on behind it. Not that that applied now. He'd barely had time to see his new form in a mirror, and had wasted that having a breakdown (what Madame St. Clair called 'throwing a tantrum', in fact). But who would blame him? He'd been a 15-year-old boy, his family's weirdness behind him, his little sister in one place for once, and nothing to worry about in the future but juggling phone numbers from hot girls. Now, thanks to what Eunice St. Clair had had Jeanette and the other Fae do to him, he was a dowdy, four-eyed eleven-year-old girl. Moreover, he wasn't in San Francisco anymore. He was in Wimbledon, and not here as a tennis champion, which would have been hot and garnered abundant female attention. He - or rather, she — was at a crazy school of magic the other people in Wimbledon could not even see.

All that said, even someone like Harry could tell the girl was lying.

"Umm, haven't you even checked in here?" she said. "I hope you were able to remember your name a bit better then, if so."

"Well, then, Harry Potter, if we're talking about not being what we seem?" she responded, looking her in the eye. Somehow, she knew. Maybe not everything that was up with Harry, but some of it, for sure. She decided it was the better part of valor to drop the subject. But that led to a different one.

"You are certainly powerful and educated in spell-crafting for an eleven-year-old, I have to say," Harry began.

"Oh?" asked Hermione, raising one eyebrow. Really, she could be actually cute if she'd taken the least little care for her appearance. Her dark, bushy hair was medium length, but cut as if someone had brushed it all out then cut it all off at the same length, then done for her bangs with a mixing bowl and a fabric shears.

"I almost am surprised you didn't overcome To ... the troll," Harry continued, catching herself.

"Your friend To the Troll has magic I've never encountered. That did not seem to be the case for you." Once again, she met her eyes, and Harry had to look away.

"Well," Harry responded clumsily.

"Well, indeed. Let's go have some tea and something to eat, shall we?"

With that, Hermione turned to bend over her bed and reach her bag. She came up smiling for some reason, and then they left, with Hermione spelling them out of the common area.

En route to the dining hall, she pulled Harry to a halt. "I realize we have a sort of detente going on, Harry, and I am genuinely grateful, but we must talk. You were staring at my breasts — what little I have — more than meeting my eyes when we were talking. When you did meet my gaze, you were thoughtful, as if evaluating how much better I might look if I fixed myself up, and paused when you got to my lips, at which point you licked your own. When I bent over to get my bag, in the mirror I saw you were drooling over my bum." She had her hands on her hips and a satisfied expression on her face. "I am sorry if I was short with you when you pointed out my mistake. It's elementary that you pick a name, stick to it, and say it automatically. The answer to your question is that nervousness such as to make you stammer out your name is quite expected here at Miss Cackle's, and in fact, the faculty and other students find it endearing. But I wished to return the favor, if your goal is to be discreet."

When they got to the dining hall and summoned tea and a small lunch, Harry and Hermione sat away from the others. Hermione said, "murmurati" as they sat down, which she explained would not silence them, just make it tricky to make out anything they were saying. Then she asked Harry, "Would you agree both of us have secrets, and our own agenda, here at Miss Cackle's?"

Harry nodded.

"And am I correct in saying you are lamenting the fact that your social life will be somewhat truncated? I honestly suspect you are a bit older than you look, probably in your prime dating age."

Harry looked at her, astonished.

"Well, if that surprised you ... Harry, we are going to have to be allies. If you did not mean me well, you could have let that troll you know finish me off, for one thing."

"Well ..." Harry interrupted.

"Well?"

"He doesn't do that. He's evil, all right but he thinks killing is a waste."

"Oh? So what was my fate to be?"

"He would put you in a glass coffin, probably. It's what he did to my sister, Wendy. And then assume your form and wreak havoc."

"And what's preventing that now? Well, Amelia will probably sort him out."

"Uh." Harry looked a little ill.

"What?"

"Well, he can expand a room like that until it's so big he won't be found easily. It's one of his spells."

"So, regardless of my plans, I have to help deal with a shape-changing troll wizard who could be anyone? Am I hearing this correctly? And of course you are aware that trolls are mostly resistant to magic — here in an academy devoted to nothing but?"

Harry could only nod.

"Does he take liberties with the girls? Or are there some small mercies here?"

"I think he's still obsessed with my little sister ... Or, well, now she'd be a bit older than me, wouldn't she? He wanted her to be his consort in his dark kingdom, after all."

"At any rate, Harry, if you wish to keep me company here, I would not mind. My own experiences at girls' academies have made me open to such arrangements, and I can be very discreet, and instruct you as well, if it comes to that. But, hmm... okay, enough secret-sharing. Let's get you up to speed about Miss Cackle's Academy, shall we?"

She paused. "My true surname is actually Cackle. Since I share that with the headmistress, Amelia Cackle, and her twin Agatha - who is, I assure you, quite the piece of work - and since my existence has been heretofore absolutely unknown, you can see how that could be confusing at "Miss Cackle's Academy of Magic?"

After Harry nodded, Hermione gave her a brief overview of the school. She encouraged Harry to meet a few of the students over lunch and meet up with her afterwards. Since it was, after all, an all-girl school, Harriet had no objection to that plan whatsoever. It was time to see if girl-Harry still had game.