Chapter 5 – Halloween
As the days turned into weeks, Harry found himself gradually adjusting to life at Hogwarts. The much-anticipated Gryffindor Quidditch try-outs were finally upon him, and he was a mixture of excitement and nerves. It was an overcast day, with just a hint of chill in the air – the perfect weather for Quidditch.
When Harry arrived at the pitch, he was greeted by the sight of the towering goal posts and the lush, green field. His fellow Gryffindors were already there, chatting animatedly and warming up on their brooms. Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor team captain, gathered everyone around and explained the try-out process. They would be tested on their flying skills, teamwork, and adaptability, with each player vying for their desired position on the team.
Harry's heart pounded in his chest as he mounted his broom, took a deep breath, and kicked off into the sky. The wind whipped through his hair as he soared higher and higher, feeling a sense of freedom that was both exhilarating and calming. He couldn't help but grin, revelling in the pure joy of flying.
During the try-outs, Harry displayed exceptional talent as a Seeker. He was agile and quick, making sharp turns and dives with ease. His eyes locked onto the Snitch with unerring focus, and his determination to catch it was apparent to everyone watching. It wasn't long before Oliver Wood announced that Harry had earned a spot as Gryffindor's youngest Seeker in over a century.
In addition to his Quidditch success, Professor McGonagall continued to hold weekly tea sessions with him, sharing tales from his parents' days at school. He listened intently to stories about the Marauders' elaborate pranks and his mother's extraordinary magical abilities. Through these accounts, Harry came to understand that he was more like his father, excelling in spellcasting while struggling with theoretical aspects. Luckily, Hermione was always there to guide him and keep him on track.
Occasionally, Harry visited Hagrid, who revealed more scandalous stories about his parents that McGonagall would never have divulged. It turned out his father was quite the romantic, persistently pursuing his mother for years before winning her heart.
A week after earning the position of Gryffindor Seeker, Harry received a Nimbus 2000, the best broom currently available on the market, from an anonymous benefactor. He was exhilarated to test its capabilities during his first Quidditch practice.
Despite being at Hogwarts for two months, Harry still found Daphne a mystery. She and Jingles remained inseparable, though the enigmatic feline did pay Harry a few visits. Jingles continued to puzzle him, and even Hermione's extensive research in the library on magical cats provided no answers. All they found were details about kneazles, which bore no resemblance to Jingles.
~~~o~~~
Harry, Hermione, and Neville made their way to their final class of the day, Charms. Following the class, Harry had a scheduled tea session with Professor McGonagall before the grand feast that evening. Halloween was a significant celebration in the wizarding world, differing greatly from the Muggle custom of dressing up and trick-or-treating. In the magical realm, they gathered with friends and family to share a lavish meal and express gratitude for their blessings.
Upon entering the Charms classroom, they were greeted by the familiar scent of aged parchment and ink. The wooden desks were arranged in orderly rows, and the room was divided into two halves with the Slytherins on one side and the Gryffindors on the other. The walls were lined with shelves filled with dusty old books and jars containing various magical objects.
Professor Flitwick, his white hair standing out like a beacon, stood atop a stack of books to reach the chalkboard. Clearing his throat, he began his lesson in a high-pitched yet authoritative voice. "Today, we will be learning about Wingardium Leviosa, the levitation charm," he announced. "It has a multitude of uses in everyday life, but it is most commonly employed to lift and carry heavier objects."
The professor proceeded to write the charm's formula on the chalkboard and explained how an object's weight influenced the amount of magical power needed for levitation. Hermione leaned forward in her seat, her quill poised to take diligent notes.
Flitwick demonstrated the wand movement for the class, waving his wand in a graceful arc. "Now, let's all try it on these feathers," he said, gesturing to a pile of fluffy feathers on his desk. With an effortless and elegant motion, he levitated the feathers to each student. "Do not be disheartened if this task proves challenging at first. Your magical cores are still developing, so even though you can physically lift a feather with ease, it may be more demanding to do so magically," Professor Flitwick advised in his distinct voice. Eagerly, the students began attempting to levitate their feathers.
Daphne was the first to successfully levitate her feather, followed closely by Harry and Hermione. Daphne had established herself as the top of the class, much to Hermione's chagrin.
Seamus, seated next to Hermione, was struggling with his feather. Harry noticed that Seamus's wand movements were incorrect, but before he could say anything, Hermione intervened. "Stop, Seamus, you're doing it wrong. Your flick after the swish is too sharp. Here, let me show you." She levitated her feather once more.
Seamus glared at her, his face contorted with disdain. "I don't need your help, Granger," he said venomously. He tried again to levitate his feather, but it suddenly exploded, eliciting laughter from the Slytherins.
As the class continued, the room was filled with the sound of rustling feathers as students focused on perfecting their levitation charms. The air was thick with the faint scent of freshly sharpened quills and the whispered voices of students discussing their progress with their classmates.
Meanwhile, on the Slytherin side, Jingles lay snoozing on Daphne's desk, his black fur gleaming in the dim light of the classroom. Suddenly, he stirred and stretched, his eyes widening as he realized he was floating in mid-air. Daphne had cast the charm on him, and with a flick of her wand, she set him spinning in a slow, graceful circle, leaving many students gasping in awe.
Jingles, however, appeared entirely unfazed by the sudden change in his surroundings. He continued to float calmly, even starting to groom himself with delicate licks of his tongue as he spun around. Finally, Daphne levitated him above herself and let him drop, catching him with ease as he landed in her outstretched arms.
After catching Jingles, Daphne gently rubbed her face against his, eliciting a contented purr from the little cat. This prompted Jingles to return the affection by licking her cheek, causing Daphne to giggle softly. Harry observed this interaction and noticed how different Daphne was with Jingles compared to her peers. While she was cold and aloof towards other students, she was warm, happy, and cheerful around the black feline.
The class erupted into murmurs and whispers, impressed by Daphne's display of magical control. Professor Flitwick, not one to encourage showboating, could not help but be impressed by the feat. "Five points for Slytherin, Miss Greengrass. But do be careful not to let your talents go to your head. We wouldn't want any accidents to happen."
Daphne nodded, her face adorned with a small smile. "Of course, Professor. Jingles is safe with me."
~~~o~~~
As Harry and Hermione walked through the dimly lit Hogwarts corridors, the sound of their footsteps echoed off the stone walls. The hallways were deserted, save for a few scattered portraits and the occasional ghost floating by. The air was chilly, and a faint musty smell hung in the air. As they walked, Harry could feel the weight of his school bag tugging at his shoulder, and he shifted its weight to try and ease the discomfort.
Suddenly, Seamus and Dean appeared behind them, causing Harry and Hermione to turn around. Seamus sneered at Hermione, his face twisted with anger. "Hey Granger," he said, his voice dripping with disdain. "I don't know who you think you are, trying to impress everyone with your insufferable know-it-all attitude. It's not making you any friends. In fact, it's just making people despise you."
Harry felt his blood begin to boil as Seamus continued his cruel tirade. "Do you actually think you're special or something? Just because you can memorize a few spells? No one likes a smug, condescending brat, you know."
He took a step forward, ready to defend his friend, but before he could say anything, Hermione burst into tears and ran off. The sound of her sobs echoed through the hallway as she fled, leaving Harry standing there in shock. Seamus and Dean chuckled maliciously, their faces twisted into sinister sneers.
Harry glared at them, his fists clenched at his sides. "You two are nothing but a pair of miserable bullies," he spat. "Hermione is ten times the witch either of you will ever be."
Seamus just smirked, unfazed by Harry's words. "Whatever, Potter. Enjoy hanging out with your pathetic little sidekick."
Harry searched the halls, looking for Hermione with growing worry. She was nowhere to be seen, and he knew that he couldn't exactly barge into the girls' dormitory or bathroom to find her.
Finally, he gave up and made his way to Professor McGonagall's office, hoping that Hermione would show up at the feast later. He tried to push the worry out of his mind, but it lingered, weighing heavily on his heart.
~~~o~~~
As Harry stepped into Professor McGonagall's office, he was hit by a wave of heaviness in the air. The usual cheery atmosphere of their tea sessions was absent, replaced by a solemn mood. The scent of jasmine tea wafted through the room, soothing and delicate, but Harry couldn't fully appreciate it under the circumstances. He took a seat and the enchanted teapot poured him a cup of tea, its soft clinking sound filling the otherwise silent room.
With a sigh, McGonagall spoke up, her voice heavy with sadness. "Today, Mr. Potter, we will be discussing a few topics that we had put off for too long. While Halloween is typically a joyous occasion, for me, it serves as a reminder of what happened to your parents." She took a sip of her tea before continuing, "There are two topics that I promised to discuss with you at a later date - the full tale of what happened to your parents and the whereabouts of the other Marauders. Both are not easy subjects, but I believe we have postponed them for long enough. Don't worry, our next session will be more lighthearted than today's."
Harry nodded, attempting to suppress his emotions. He knew that it wouldn't be easy to hear about his parents' fate, but he needed to know. "Let's start with the Marauders and then move on to my parents," he replied, his voice betraying no hint of the turmoil he felt inside.
She took another sip of her tea before continuing with a heavy sigh. "Very well, then let me tell you what happened to the Marauders after the events of Halloween 1981. Remus Lupin was already distant from the Marauders at that point, since they assumed there to be a spy amongst them, and Lupin was the prime suspect. To my knowledge, he is still alive today, but no one I know of has heard of him after your parents' death. Also, just so that you know, the spy was not actually Lupin, but we will get to that later."
Harry's heart skipped a beat at the mention of a spy. He leaned forward in his chair, his attention fully focused on McGonagall's words. The sound of the teapot filling his cup with hot tea was the only other noise in the room.
"Peter Pettigrew died shortly after your parents. He had fallen victim to the spy, just like your parents did. There wasn't even a body left to bury, only a finger was found of him," she said with a grim expression.
Harry's mind raced with questions. Who was the spy? How did they manage to kill Pettigrew and his parents? And why did they do it? He couldn't help but feel a sense of anger and frustration bubbling up inside of him.
Professor McGonagall took another sip of tea, and as the magical teapot refilled her cup, she continued, "That leaves us with Sirius Black, your father's best friend and the best man at his wedding. They were as thick as brothers, so no one suspected him to be the spy." Harry was shocked. He had assumed that the spy was not among the Marauders, given the loyalty between them.
The professor paused, allowing Harry a moment to process the information. Seeing that he had nothing to say, she continued, "I haven't told you much about the Black family, but now seems like a good time. They've been a dark family for centuries, supporting both Grindelwald and You-Know-Who. They were mostly sorted into Slytherin and always held blood purity in high esteem, even going to extremes like marrying their cousins to keep their blood pure. Sirius was the exception, or so we thought. He was the first to be sorted into Gryffindor and became friends with your father, who came from a family on the light side for centuries. Sirius ran away from home and lived with your father when the war began, pretending that he didn't want to be forced to join his family's side. He played this role so well that no one suspected him until it was too late. In fact, it was he who put the spotlight on Lupin as the potential spy."
Harry clenched his fists in anger at the Professor's revelation. A man he had admired through McGonagall's stories was responsible for his losses, his life at the Dursleys. Before he could speak, the Professor reassured him, "Don't worry, though. He cannot do any more harm. He is rotting away in Azkaban as we speak."
With a deep breath, Harry struggled to keep his voice steady. "Can you please tell me how Sirius Black was involved in my parents' death and why he did it?" he asked the Professor, trying to sound as calm as possible.
The Professor's eyes clouded over with sorrow. "Before I answer that, let me remind you that your parents hid under the Fidelius charm," she said, taking a sip of tea. The aroma of Jasmine filled the room, calming Harry's nerves. "The charm is a powerful form of protection that conceals a location and hides it as a secret in someone's mind. The person who knows the secret is called the 'Secretkeeper', and only they can disclose the location. No one else can find it unless they know the secret."
Harry furrowed his brow, his mind racing to make sense of what he was hearing. "So Sirius Black was the Secretkeeper?"
McGonagall nodded gravely. "Indeed, as I mentioned earlier, they suspected Remus to be a spy, so they chose Sirius as their Secretkeeper. The Secretkeeper cannot be forced or coerced to divulge the Secret; they must give it willingly. As you can see, that makes the Fidelius Charm a rather strong protection."
Harry furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Why didn't my father or mother become the Secretkeeper then? Wouldn't that make more sense, since they are under its protection, and the Secret would be unobtainable?" he asked.
"Sadly, that is not possible," McGonagall responded. "You see, depending on the strength of the caster, the Secretkeeper can only spend a few hours at most inside the boundaries of the charm, else it would fall. Since they wanted to protect themselves and you, they had to choose someone else who wasn't living with them." McGonagall paused to take a sip of tea before she continued. "Now, there are a few more important details about the charm. For example, everyone who is at the location when the charm is cast automatically knows the Secret. Also, if the Secretkeeper dies, everyone who knows the Secret will become a Secretkeeper and will be able to tell others. As long as at least one Secretkeeper is outside of the charm, it won't fall. If all Secretkeepers are dead, then the charm will break. I hope you understood the explanation. If you can remember it, then it will give you bonus points in your seventh-grade charms class," McGonagall added with a chuckle.
The professor's eyes drifted over Harry's shoulder, and he turned to see the sun setting over the Hogwarts grounds, casting the room in a warm, golden light.
"Now that you understand the Fidelius charm, I can tell you what happened in full. As you have no doubt noticed, Halloween is a rather big celebration in the wizarding world, but that is a rather new tradition. We celebrate the end of the war, the fall of You-Know-Who." McGonagall let out a sad sigh and then continued "It was exactly 10 years ago, You-Know-Who arrived at the Potter cottage in the early evening hours. Sirius Black had told him the Secret so he knew where to find them, that is how he was involved in your parents death. As to the 'why' I don't have an answer sadly. His betrayal came unexpected to everyone. What I will tell you now is the most plausible retelling of events of that night, based on evidence gathered by the Aurors."
Harry adopted a confused look, which caused Professor McGonagall to elaborate "Aurors are basically the wizarding equivalent of the Police." After Harry's short nod, the Professor continued, "To prevent anyone from using apparition - a form of instant travel in the wizarding world - You-know-who first placed an anti-apparition ward over the cottage." Harry nodded, indicating his comprehension.
"Your father and mother were downstairs in the sitting room when the door was blasted open. In a heartbeat, your father drew his wand and began to fight You-Know-Who. Your mother raced up the stairs to your room, desperate to protect you from harm."
The Professor's eyes grew distant as she spoke. "Your father was a skilled wizard, but he knew that he was no match for You-Know-Who. He fought not for himself, but to give your mother and you enough time to escape. He protected the stairs, keeping You-Know-Who from following your mother upstairs."
Harry felt his throat tighten as he listened. His father had been so brave, so selfless. "And then?" he prompted, needing to know the rest of the story.
The Professor sighed heavily. "While they fought, someone set the sitting room on fire. It quickly spread, consuming the entire cottage. It's still unclear who did it. In the end, your father fell to You-Know-Who's favourite curse, the killing curse."
Harry's face twisted in confusion, and the Professor proceeded to clarify, "The killing curse, as the name suggests, is a curse that instantaneously kills the victim by ripping out their soul. Only a few individuals possess the power to cast it since it requires tremendous magical strength. Though it's believed to be a painless death, so perhaps it can offer some solace that your father didn't suffer before his end. The curse itself is unblockable by any form of magic, but physical matter can serve as an effective shield since the curse has no effect on inanimate objects." McGonagall paused to take a sip of tea before continuing, "Upstairs, your mother likely attempted to disapparate with you, but the anti-apparition ward prevented her from doing so. When You-know-who entered your room, she fought fiercely to shield you, but as I mentioned earlier, the killing curse cannot be blocked by magic. Fighting in a confined space like your room put her at a disadvantage. Unfortunately, she also perished from the same curse, just a few feet away from your crib."
Harry's emotions were overwhelming him, and he couldn't hold back his tears any longer. "They sacrificed themselves for me," he said between sobs. "I can't believe it. They were so brave, so selfless." He felt a mix of pride, love, sadness, and hatred, all swirling inside him.
Professor McGonagall reached out to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I know, Harry. Your parents were remarkable people. "
As he tried to regain his composure, Harry noticed that McGonagall was struggling to keep her own emotions in check. He could see the pain etched on her face, a sign of just how much she cared for his parents.
After a few moments, McGonagall spoke again. "I'm sure you would like to know more, Harry. Why did You-Know-Who target your family? How did you survive? How did he perish?" She paused, her voice cracking. "But those are questions that no one can answer. All we know for sure is that your parents were brave, and that you are here today because of them."
Harry wiped away his tears and looked up at the professor. "Thank you for telling me the truth, Professor. It's not easy to hear, but I'm glad I know it now."
McGonagall nodded. "You deserve to know, Harry. Today, people will celebrate the victory over the Dark Lord. And while we remember the sacrifices of those who fell, we also celebrate the courage and determination that led to his defeat."
After finishing his cup of tea, Harry gathered his things to leave, but McGonagall spoke up again. "I have one other thing which concerns me, do you feel well enough for me to ask a rather personal question?" Harry felt a knot form in his stomach. He had grown close to the professor over their weekly tea sessions, but he was unsure what she wanted to ask him.
Feeling apprehensive, he nodded and said, "Sure, go ahead."
McGonagall leaned forward in her chair, her eyes fixed on Harry. "Now, Harry, as you know, your parents were very outgoing and charismatic. However, I've noticed that in the two months you've been here, you tend to keep to yourself. You only seem to open up to Miss Granger and have friendly interactions with Mr. Longbottom, but you're distant with the rest of the class. I have also heard about your somewhat friendly interactions with Miss Greengrass, but I suspect that Jingles is the main connection between you two. And when Miss Granger hugged you in Diagon Alley, you tensed up as if you were afraid of physical contact." She gave him a sad look. "So, I must ask, is everything alright at home? The circumstances in which we grow up shape the way we interact with people, and I can't help but think that something may have happened that you need assistance with."
Harry's heart was pounding in his chest as he tried to come up with a response. He hadn't expected Professor McGonagall to be so perceptive, to see through his facade so easily. Should he tell her about the abuse he had suffered at the hands of the Dursleys? Would she believe him? And even if she did, what could she do about it? The thought of confiding in her made him panic.
"No Professor, everything is fine at my home. I guess I just haven't warmed up yet to my peers," he lied, his voice unsteady. He felt guilty for lying to her, but he couldn't bring himself to reveal the truth. Not yet, anyway.
McGonagall nodded slowly, her expression sad. "Alright Harry. If there ever is anything you need my assistance with, my door is always open to you. Now you best make haste to the Great Hall, unless you want to miss the feast."
Harry gave her a quick nod, grateful for her understanding. He quickly gathered his things and left her office, his heart still racing. As he made his way to the Great Hall, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had missed an opportunity to open up to someone who might be able to help him.
~~~o~~~
Harry made his way to the Great Hall, his stomach rumbling with hunger. The scent of burning torches mixed with the aroma of freshly polished wood filled the air. He looked around the Gryffindor Table, but Hermione was nowhere in sight. Taking a seat next to Neville, he asked, "Hey Neville, have you seen Hermione?"
Neville shook his head. "Sorry, Harry, I haven't seen her since charms class. You two weren't fighting or anything, were you?"
Harry shook his head. "No, nothing like that. I just wanted to make sure she's okay."
As the Headmaster began his speech, Harry's thoughts drifted to Hermione. He hoped she was all right. Suddenly, the tables were groaning under the weight of the feast. Steaming plates of roast beef, mashed potatoes, and gravy were served, along with platters of colourful vegetables and freshly baked bread. Harry helped himself to a little of everything, feeling grateful for the delicious food.
He ate slowly, lost in thought. He wanted to talk to Hermione about his parents and what had happened on the night they died. He was proud of them, of how they had protected him. For now, he would enjoy the food and hope that Hermione would appear soon.
The Great Hall was filled with chatter as the students enjoyed their dinner. Suddenly, the doors burst open, and Professor Quirrell charged in. "Troll!" he yelled. "Troll in the dungeons!" With that, he collapsed on the floor.
The room erupted into chaos as students scrambled to their feet, running and shouting in panic. Dumbledore's voice cut through the noise. "Silence!" he commanded. "Everyone, please calm down and return to your seats. Prefects, secure the entrance to the Great Hall and keep everyone calm. Seventh-year students, take positions close to the entrance and be ready to fight if necessary. The other Professors and I will search for the troll. I will close the Great Hall from the outside, so no trolls should be able to enter. Please stay here until we return."
The Head Boy and Head Girl quickly sprang into action. Tonks, known for her skill in Defence Against the Dark Arts, grabbed her wand and started directing students back to their seats with a sense of authority. She then turned her attention to organizing the seventh-year students, assigning them to strategic positions near the entrance and reminding them of effective spells to subdue the troll if it breached the Great Hall.
With her vibrant hair and enthusiastic demeanour, Tonks managed to instil a sense of confidence in her peers, easing some of their fears. Meanwhile, the Prefects worked to calm the frightened students.
Dumbledore added one more instruction before leaving. "Please get Professor Quirrell into his chair and try to revive him. As soon as he is able, he must join us in the search."
Harry's thoughts immediately turned to Hermione. She wasn't here. He leaped to his feet and ran to Dumbledore, who was about to leave the Great Hall. "Professor," he gasped. "Hermione is missing, can you also look for her?"
Dumbledore placed a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "It's good to see that you're looking out for your friend," he said with a smile. "Rest assured, we'll be keeping an eye out for her." With that, he closed the doors to the Great Hall, and the sound of locks clicking echoed throughout the room.
~~~o~~~
A few moments earlier
Daphne savoured the succulent taste of the roasted beef, relishing in the tender texture and savory seasoning. The aroma of the meat wafted up to her nose, making her mouth water with every bite. She glanced over at Jingles, who was happily munching away on his own portion of the beef, his tail swishing contentedly. Daphne couldn't help but smile at the sight.
"Daph, I gotta go pee," Tracey whispered, poking her friend's shoulder.
Daphne nodded, taking one last bite of her roasted beef. She picked up Jingles, who was still eyeing the platter longingly, and stood up from the table. "Sure, let's go."
Jingles meowed in protest, clearly unhappy that his meal had been interrupted, but made no attempt to escape Daphne's hold. She smiled at the cat's loyalty, happy to have such a devoted companion. "It won't take long" she said to Jingles "Your food won't even be cold when we get back, and I am sure the house elves will give you another serving, if you are still hungry." Jingles gave a soft meow in agreement.
As they made their way to the girls' bathroom on the first floor, Tracey's excitement bubbled over. "You know, I wish Jingles would answer yes or no questions more often," she said. "He must have so much wisdom after living here for ten years."
Daphne grinned. "Just give it a shot, Trace," she said.
Tracey turned to Jingles. "Can you understand everything we say?" she asked eagerly.
Jingles shook his head, and Tracey's face fell. "Oh, that's too bad. I have so many questions..." Her voice trailed off as she caught Jingles in a lie. "Wait a minute. To answer that question, you had to understand me. You're lying to me!"
Daphne burst out laughing. "Come on, Trace, we're almost at the bathroom" she said with tears rolling from her eyes.
As they stepped inside the bathroom, a strong smell of lavender and mint filled their nostrils. The floor was made of black and white marble tiles, arranged in a checkered pattern. The walls were painted light blue, and decorated with sea-shell shaped soap holders, each containing a bar of soap in the shape of a starfish. Above the sinks, a big rectangular mirror with a gold frame hung on the wall, reflecting the image of the two girls.
Daphne studied her reflection in the mirror, taking note of the fine details of her face. She placed Jingles down and let him wander for a bit, but she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. How much longer should she keep the connection between her and Jingles a secret from Tracey?
But Tracey seemed to have forgotten about Jingles for the moment. She was staring at her reflection and frowning. "I think I need a haircut," she said.
Daphne smiled at Tracey. "You always look beautiful, Trace," she complimented her. "I'm thinking of trying something different with my hair. Maybe a ponytail when it's long enough."
Tracey's eyes widened with excitement. "Oh, that would be so cute! But you know what? Your hair looks amazing down, no matter what length it is. Your smooth blonde hair frames your face perfectly."
Just then, they both heard someone sobbing in one of the bathroom stalls. Daphne's expression softened as she approached the stall, knocking gently. "Is everything okay?" she asked in a soft, reassuring voice.
Daphne heard a hoarse voice coming from the stall and recognized it as Hermione's. "Go away," Hermione said. Daphne spoke softly "Hermione, it's me Daphne, and Tracey is here too. Why don't you come out and tell us what happened?"
"Why would you care, you never show any emotion towards anybody, why now?" Hermione retorted. Daphne took a deep breath and paused, considering how much she should reveal to the distressed girl. She knew her reputation for being aloof and distant, but she also wanted to help Hermione. "Certain circumstances force me to act certain ways in public," she said carefully. "Right now, we're not in public, and while we're not exactly friends, I would like to believe we're on friendly terms. That's why I care."
Hermione remained silent, her sobs the only sound in the bathroom stall. Daphne watched as Jingles gave a soft "meow" and nudged her leg. "Well, if you don't want to talk to me, you could always talk to Jingles. He's out here too," Daphne suggested with a small smile.
After a moment, the lock on the stall clicked and Hermione emerged, her eyes red from crying. Daphne and Tracey greeted her with warm smiles. Jingles walked up to her and pressed himself against her leg, causing her to crouch down and pet him. Meanwhile, Tracey excused herself to use one of the other stalls.
Daphne crouched down next to Hermione, her soft footsteps echoing on the cold, damp floor. She placed a warm, comforting hand on her shoulder, and the air filled with the scent of Hermione's salted tears. After a moment, Hermione's voice trembled as she began to speak. "Seamus was so rude to me. He called me an insufferable know-it-all. I'm probably overreacting, but I'm afraid that things will turn out like at my elementary school, where everyone hated me," she choked out between heart-wrenching sobs.
Daphne's brow furrowed, her eyes darkening with anger. "Seamus is an idiot. You shouldn't place any weight in whatever he says," she reassured Hermione gently, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Besides, I don't think Harry would ever abandon you; you two seem as thick as thieves." Jingles purred softly in agreement, his soothing vibrations filling the air. Tracey emerged from the stall, her eyes lingering on the pair with a mix of concern and curiosity.
Suddenly, Jingles' purr turned into a sharp hiss, cutting through the tense atmosphere. The girls followed his wide-eyed gaze towards the entrance of the bathroom, where a fully grown mountain troll stood, its pungent odour assaulting their nostrils. All three of them screamed in panic, their voices high-pitched and desperate. The troll, aggravated by the noise, began trashing the bathroom in a frenzy of destruction.
With a swift strike of its giant wooden club, the troll demolished all the stalls, sending wood and porcelain shards flying through the air like deadly projectiles. The sound of crashing and shattering reverberated throughout the room, intensifying the chaos and fear that gripped the girls' hearts.
The hulking troll loomed near the exit, making slipping past it to escape an impossible task. With no other options left, Daphne mustered every ounce of courage and screamed from the depths of her soul, "Please, somebody save us!" Just as the desperate plea escaped her lips, a golden radiance enveloped the bathroom. A mysterious male voice, one she had never heard before, resonated through her head: "I accept your plea."
A surge of magic, far more potent than anything she had ever experienced, coursed through her veins. In a whirlwind of knowledge, she saw various lessons from different professors about the Protego Charm. She learned that it was the most common defensive charm, useful against both physical and magical attacks, and that casting it at just the right moment could even reflect certain assaults. Different Professors delved into the minute yet crucial details of the spell: the incantation, the wand movements. All this wisdom was granted to her in the blink of an eye.
The enigmatic voice rang out once more, "Use the spell. I do not have enough magical power to protect you." Knowing it was her only chance, Daphne gripped her wand tightly. As the troll swung its massive club at her, she shouted, "Protego!" at the precise moment. A faint, shimmering light materialized at the end of her wand, quivering under the impact of the troll's club. Daphne clung to her wand for dear life, and eventually, the club was flung away with immense force, sending the troll stumbling backward into the giant mirror above the sinks.
As shards of glass exploded through the air, Jingles leaped in front of the troll and let out a piercing meow. Miraculously, two large fragments of glass halted mid-flight. Jingles raised his right paw, and the razor-sharp pieces hurtled toward the troll like lightning, each striking an eye with a sickening, fleshy sound. The troll crumpled to the floor, lifeless.
Exhaustion overwhelmed Daphne. Casting the Protego Charm had nearly drained her magical reserves. Jingles turned to look at her, offering a soft meow before collapsing to the ground. Panic surged through Daphne as she rushed to his side, her heart pounding in her chest.
Daphne immediately dropped to her knees beside the small cat, placing a hand on his chest. Relief flooded her as she felt his tiny heartbeat. She realized that he must have collapsed from magical exhaustion. Was he the mysterious voice she had just heard? She knew she couldn't let anyone know what had transpired, as they would undoubtedly take Jingles away. Her mind raced to concoct a plausible story about how they had managed to defeat a troll.
She looked at Tracey and Hermione, who were still reeling from the shocking turn of events, and spoke urgently, "Please, the professors will be here any moment. When they arrive, let me do the talking. They can't find out what really happened." Tracey nodded in agreement, but Hermione seemed shocked. "You plan to lie to the professors? But why?" Footsteps echoed in the corridor, growing closer with each second.
"Please, Hermione. I'll do anything you want in return, just let me handle this," Daphne implored. She picked up a piece of wood and turned to Jingles. "Forgive me for this," she whispered, gently tapping the feline on his head. Although not forceful enough to cause serious harm, it was enough to create a visible bump. Daphne scooped up the unconscious Jingles just as Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Quirrell burst into the bathroom.
"Oh, my goodness," exclaimed Professor McGonagall, turning to the girls with a stern expression. "Explain what happened here!" Daphne responded in a shaky voice, "We were using the bathroom, Professor, when the troll surprised us. I managed to deflect its attack with a Protego Charm, causing the troll to stumble into the mirror. Luckily, the glass shards pierced its eyes." She glanced at Hermione and Tracey, "I don't think any of us were seriously injured, just a few cuts and splinters." Turning back to the professors, she continued, "But Jingles was hit by a stray piece of wood and lost consciousness. Can we please go to the hospital wing as soon as possible to get him checked out?"
Professor Snape stepped forward, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You, a first-year student, casting a Protego Charm? That's absurd. No one would teach that to an eleven-year-old since they don't even have enough magical power to cast it." Daphne shot him a defiant glare. "You're right, sir. I wasn't taught the spell. I read about it in one of my family's duelling books and remembered it just in time. It was my first attempt at casting the spell, and if you ask Madam Pomfrey, she'll confirm that my magical core is nearly depleted."
Professor McGonagall intervened, "Severus! This is not an interrogation." She then addressed Daphne, "Miss Greengrass, what you accomplished today is truly remarkable. You not only saved your own life but also the lives of two of your classmates. Take twenty points for Slytherin, and rest assured that I'll be speaking with the Headmaster about awarding you for special services to the school." She gently touched the bump on Jingles' head, examining it. "Poor little fellow took quite a hit. You three should report to Madam Pomfrey; she'll check on Jingles as well as you. The adrenaline rush may be masking any injuries you've sustained."
The girls nodded and quickly left the bathroom. As soon as they were out of earshot of the professors, Hermione spoke up, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. "Daphne, why didn't you tell them that Jingles killed the troll? And aren't you worried about witnessing a cat casting a spell, resulting in a dead troll? It's not normal for a cat to have such abilities, even in the magical world."
"A magical cat, not a normal one. And no, I'm not worried. I trust Jingles nearly as much as I trust Tracey." Daphne responded as she turned to her best friend and smiled, which Tracey happily returned. "What concerns me is the possibility of the professors trying to take Jingles away."
Daphne sighed and looked apologetically at Tracey. "Trace, I've been meaning to tell you for a while now that Jingles and I share a connection. I just hadn't found the right time. And after that golden glow, I heard a voice, but it seemed like you two didn't hear anything."
Tracey and Hermione exchanged puzzled glances. "We didn't hear any voice, Daphne," Hermione admitted, her concern deepening. "But don't you think we should look into this more? Jingles could be potentially dangerous, even if you trust him."
Daphne shook her head. "I appreciate your concern, Hermione, but I'm certain Jingles means no harm to us. I promise to explain more later since we're almost at the Hospital Wing."
Tracey nodded in understanding. "Alright, Daph. I know you don't usually keep secrets from me, so I'm not worried. But let's keep an eye on Jingles just in case, alright?"
The girls continued walking, their minds filled with questions about the mysterious events that had just unfolded.
Upon arriving at the massive doors of the Hospital Wing, they pushed them open. Madam Pomfrey hurried over to them as soon as they entered. "Alright, what happened to you?" She began examining them before they could respond. "I see a few cuts, probably from glass." Her eyes landed on Jingles. "Oh dear, what happened to him?" She waved her wand over the bump on his head, which glowed under what was likely a diagnostic spell.
"He was struck by a stray piece of wood on the head," Daphne replied with a touch of sadness. "As for what happened, we just survived a troll attack in the bathroom. I think we're fine, except for some cuts and splinters, but Professor McGonagall insisted we get checked out by you."
Madam Pomfrey's eyes widened. "That must have been a terrifying experience. Please place Jingles on the bed over there," she pointed to an empty bed. "He's fortunate; it seems he hasn't sustained any brain damage." Daphne, relieved, placed Jingles on the bed as instructed. The matron proceeded to wave her wand over each girl, the glow changing colours.
"All three of you are fine, save for the trauma, of course," Madam Pomfrey said. She turned to Daphne, a questioning look on her face. "Your magical core is nearly depleted. What spells did you cast?" Daphne answered, her voice heavy, "Just one Protego Charm. It saved our lives."
The matron nodded. "Remarkable feat. For the rest of today, you are strictly forbidden from using any magic; otherwise, you'll end up unconscious like Jingles. Have I made myself clear?" Her tone was stern, and Daphne responded with a nod, "Yes, ma'am."
The massive doors opened once more, revealing Professor Dumbledore as he entered the Hospital Wing. "Ah, I see that you are still here," he said. "Professor McGonagall has just briefed me on the events, and I'm pleased to announce that I wholeheartedly agree with her. You will receive an award for special services to the school, and I will inform your parents immediately. I'm sure they'll be very proud of you."
Daphne's mood plummeted at the mention of her parents. She did her best to maintain a cheerful facade as she spoke to the Headmaster. "Thank you, Headmaster, but I just did what any decent person would do." She chuckled inwardly – she wouldn't describe herself as a 'decent person.' Glancing at Jingles, she still felt guilty for the bump she had caused. Dumbledore noticed her gaze. "It seems being humble is a trait shared by those who Jingles favours," his demeanour shifted. "However, Miss Greengrass, I must ask if there is something about Jingles you're not telling me?"
Daphne struggled to maintain her composure as panic coursed through her. Then, she sensed it – a Legilimency probe. It had to be Dumbledore's; her Occlumency shields were down due to her near-depletion of magic. He asked the question to bring the memory of the attack to the forefront of her mind, making it easier to access. She gathered her remaining magic and bombarded the probe with the most immediate memories: her parents abusing her. The lack of food, being confined to her room, not allowed to change clothes unless she had to be seen in public. Reliving these awful memories was the only way to protect Jingles.
The Headmaster's expression darkened. "I see. If there is anything, truly anything, you need help with, Miss Greengrass, my door is always open." He then motioned to Madam Pomfrey. "Poppy, may I have a brief word with you outside?" The matron nodded, and they left the Hospital Wing.
As soon as the door closed, Daphne crumpled to her knees. Blood poured from her nose, and both Hermione and Tracey rushed to her side. They helped her onto the bed next to Jingles, and Daphne spoke through her pain, "That bastard used Legilimency on me." Tracey looked shocked, while Hermione appeared confused. Before they could continue their conversation, Madam Pomfrey returned to the Hospital Wing. Upon seeing Daphne, she hurried over. "What happened, Miss Greengrass?" she asked while examining her.
Daphne shook her head. "I don't know, ma'am. My head started hurting, and my nose began bleeding. I can't explain it." The matron nodded. "Perhaps it's some head trauma I missed or a side effect of nearly draining your magical core. You'll be staying here overnight for observation, Miss Greengrass." She then turned to Tracey and Hermione. "You two should go. Curfew is approaching, so hurry to your common rooms. You can check on your friend in the morning." Tracey and Hermione both nodded with concerned smiles and made their way to their respective common rooms.
After the other girls had left, Madam Pomfrey called out, "Whispy," and a house-elf appeared. "How can Whispy be of service to Madam Pomfrey?" the elf inquired with a high-pitched, respectful voice. "Please fetch a nightgown from Miss Greengrass' trunk and bring it here," replied Madam Pomfrey. With a soft pop, the elf disappeared, and moments later, Daphne's nightgown materialized with a soft pop. "You should change now. I'll be turning off the lights in fifteen minutes," Madam Pomfrey said as she retreated to her office.
Daphne quickly changed into her nightgown and neatly folded her clothes. She then climbed into the bed where she had placed Jingles earlier. Cuddling the feline against her chest, she continued to feel remorseful for hurting him earlier. As Madam Pomfrey returned to turn off the lights, she noticed Daphne in Jingles' bed. "Ordinarily, there is a strict one-patient-per-bed rule, Miss Greengrass," stated the matron firmly. Seeing Daphne's expression, she softened. "However, under these circumstances, I'm willing to make an exception. Good night and get some rest. The trauma, magical exhaustion, and blood loss have undoubtedly put a great deal of stress on your body." With that, she flicked her wand, and the light in the Hospital Wing vanished. Daphne quickly fell into a deep sleep.
~~~o~~~
Daphne found herself in her manor's grand sitting room, the ornate furniture and dark wood panelling casting long shadows on the plush carpet beneath her feet. The dimly lit chandelier overhead cast a sombre atmosphere over the space. Her father stood before her, his face twisted with disappointment. "You want praise for receiving that award? You should have 'accidentally' let that Mudblood die instead of saving her!" He paced the room, his voice filled with disdain as he continued his tirade. "You're a disgrace to our family name. Your sister would make a far better heir than you could ever be!"
As her father's harsh words continued to batter her, Daphne fought desperately to keep a straight face. She knew that tears would only be met with further abuse, so she had to stay strong. Finally, he snapped, "Go to your room, and don't you dare come out unless summoned."
As she turned to make her way toward her room, she suddenly felt something rough and wet on her cheek. The sensation intensified until she abruptly snapped awake. Her eyes met Jingles' brilliant blue eyes shimmering in the darkness, the cat licking her face. Noticing she was now awake, Jingles ceased licking and began purring contentedly instead. Clearly, he had awakened her because he'd sensed her nightmare and was now satisfied she'd been saved from it.
Daphne gazed around the dimly lit Hospital Wing, moonlight streaming through the windows and casting a soft glow upon the room. She gently scratched Jingles behind his ear as she whispered, "You woke me up because of the nightmare, didn't you?" Jingles responded with a nod, causing Daphne to feel a pang of sadness. She had hoped to hear his voice once more. "Was it your voice I heard in the bathroom earlier?" she asked with anticipation.
Jingles nodded again, and Daphne's face lit up with excitement. "I thought so. Was that a one-time thing?" To her surprise, Jingles shook his head, filling her with hope and determination. "Alright, then. I'll find a way to get you to talk again." She carefully scooped Jingles into her arms and cuddled him against her chest. "I'm sorry for the bump on your head, but I had to give the professors an excuse as to why you were unconscious." Jingles meowed softly in agreement.
Daphne placed a tender kiss on the feline's forehead, her voice filled with gratitude. "Thank you. Both for saving me from my nightmares and for saving my life earlier today. Without your knowledge, we would have surely perished. I hope you understand how much you mean to me." Jingles' purrs intensified, signalling his contentment. With her guardian by her side, Daphne finally drifted off into a peaceful night's sleep.
~~~o~~~
Daphne awoke, and as she raised from her bed, Madam Pomfrey came over to her. "Good morning, Miss Greengrass," the Matron spoke, "I hope you had a good night's rest. Let me quickly examine you." Daphne replied with a nod, and the Matron moved her wand up and down across Daphne's body, the glow changing colours multiple times. After she was done, the Matron nodded, "All looks well. Your magical core has fully replenished, and there seems to be no more concern for nosebleeds." She then glanced towards the entrance and a soft smile formed on her lips, "You best get changed, Miss Greengrass, your friends are already waiting for you."
'Friends?' thought Daphne to herself. She only had Tracey and Jingles. She turned toward the entrance and saw Tracey and, to her surprise, Hermione standing there. 'Probably to elicit her payment for keeping quiet,' Daphne thought. The matron signalled them in, and the two girls approached Daphne, while Madam Pomfrey retreated into her office. Tracey was the first to speak up, "Hey Daph, are you feeling better now? You won't like what Hermione wants as payment for her silence," she said with a big grin.
Hermione shot her a glare, "Tracey, stop trying to make it sound like it's something dreadful." Tracey only giggled in response. Daphne sighed, as she vanished behind the curtain to change into her school uniform. "If it's money you're after, Hermione, please understand that even though I come from a wealthy family, my monthly allowance isn't that high."
Hermione replied with a shocked voice, "No, nothing like that," her voice then turned sheepish as she continued, "I want you to give us a chance to be friends. Not a forced friendship, but a genuine one. I've seen the 'real you' now twice, and I quite like her, as compared to the persona you present in public."
Daphne poked her head out from behind the curtain, "What?" she responded so loud that Jingles woke up from his slumber. "You want us to be friends? Tracey, tell me you don't agree with this." Tracey let out a laugh, "I knew you would hate it, but I personally think it would do you good to expand your circle of friends, you know, besides me and that cat."
Daphne finished changing into her school uniform and emerged from behind the curtain. "Let's continue this talk while we walk towards the Great Hall," she said as she picked up Jingles. Once outside, she continued, "Hermione, you must understand that I have nothing against you. My parents, though, are both blood purists, so they would not approve of me associating with you."
Hermione's face fell, "But they wouldn't need to know, right? I wouldn't write you letters over the summer, so they would never know I even existed." Daphne shook her head in response, "It would work for this year, but next year Astoria, my little sister, will join us here at Hogwarts. And sadly, she will report all my 'wrongdoings' to my parents. And if we were to be friends, I would also have to interact with Potter more often since he is your best friend. I'm honestly not sure what would aggravate my father more, me associating with a Muggleborn, or me associating with Potter."
Hermione said nothing in response. Daphne let out a big sigh, as Tracey nudged her shoulder. "But I'm going to keep my word. I told you I would do anything to keep you quiet about what really happened with the troll, and so be it. I will deal with my parents somehow." Daphne then stopped, turned to Hermione, and extended her hand towards her. As Hermione shook her hand, Daphne spoke with a warm smile, "Consider us friends, Hermione." Hermione returned her smile. Tracey then let out a loud "Woohoo" and put an arm around each girl's shoulder, pressing their faces against hers. "We are going to be the best of friends; I can feel it," Tracey said with excitement, causing both Daphne and Hermione to giggle. Their laughter filled the hallway, and for a moment, they all felt a deep sense of connection and shared understanding.
"After classes today, let's meet in the library so I can share what I know about Jingles and my plans for him," Daphne suggested, earning nods of agreement from Hermione and Tracey. Hermione's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, "We could make it a regular gathering. We can study together, discuss various topics, and just enjoy each other's company. Like a study group, but more informal and conversational."
Tracey chimed in brightly, "I usually dread studying, but with you two, it might actually be enjoyable. Plus, since both of you are among the top students in our class, I'm sure I'll benefit too." She giggled at the thought. Daphne rolled her eyes, "Alright, we'll meet regularly after the last class of the day. Just make sure we're far enough away from anyone else, as we'll be discussing sensitive matters that shouldn't be overheard." Both Tracey and Hermione agreed.
Soon, they arrived at the Great Hall just in time for breakfast and separated to join their respective House tables.
~~~o~~~
Harry's day hadn't been going well so far. Upon waking up, he asked Lavender Brown, a girl from his year, if Hermione was still in the dorm. Unfortunately, she told him that Hermione had already left when she awoke. Harry hadn't seen Hermione since Seamus had verbally attacked her yesterday, and the troll incident only heightened his concern for his best friend.
He sat at the Gryffindor table, constantly scanning the entrance to the Great Hall for Hermione. When she finally appeared, he was surprised to see her in the company of Daphne and Tracey. As they said their goodbyes, Hermione even gave Jingles a gentle scratch behind his ear before heading towards the Gryffindor table. Upon spotting Harry, she offered him a warm smile and made her way over.
As she sat down beside him, she greeted him cheerfully, "Good morning, Harry." Caught off guard, Harry impulsively hugged her, causing Hermione to blush slightly. "I was so worried about you, Hermione," he confessed. "I spent the whole time after class yesterday looking for you, and then when Quirrell told us about the troll, I was terrified of losing you." Harry struggled to hold back tears as Hermione patted his back reassuringly.
He released her from the embrace, and she offered him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to worry you. I was just so upset about what Seamus did that I hid in the bathroom all afternoon. Let's have breakfast, and afterwards, I'll tell you everything that happened. I'm sure you're curious about why I was with Daphne and Tracey."
Harry nodded and surveyed the assortment of breakfast foods: crispy bacon, fluffy scrambled eggs, golden-brown toast, and an array of fruits and pastries. He made his selections, piling his plate with a bit of everything before digging in, comforted by the knowledge that his best friend was safe.
After breakfast, Hermione kept her promise and recounted the events that had transpired to Harry. She described how she had been hiding in a bathroom stall, tears streaming down her face, until Daphne and Tracey found her and offered comfort. She went on to explain how the troll had managed to locate them, and the harrowing experience of Daphne and Jingles working together to save their lives. The near-death event had created a bond between the girls, one that was both unexpected and cherished. Hermione also mentioned that Daphne and Jingles had spent the night in the Hospital Wing for recovery and observation.
Harry listened in amazement, finding the story almost too incredible to believe. He then shared what Professor McGonagall had told him about his parents and their connection to the Marauders. The two friends took solace in sharing their experiences, and it brought them even closer together.
Once they were caught up on each other's recent adventures, Harry and Hermione gathered their belongings and made their way to their next class.